


no one else can speak the words on your lips

by serendiptitty



Series: purrhaps i was blind? [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Needs a Hug, Aged-Up Character(s), Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, Emotional/Psychological Abuse (mentioned), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Kissing, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Knows, POV Multiple, painted nails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendiptitty/pseuds/serendiptitty
Summary: Marinette froze.Nope. There’s no way. Absolutely no way that this was sitting in her bed right now, nope. She refused to believe it. It’s impossible for this to be in her home, in her bed no less. She hadn’t seen the object in years—remembered when she first gave it to him, when he had needed it more than she had. It didn’t make sense for it to be laying in her bed.or, Marinette knows who Chat Noir is, and things don't go nearly as she planned.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: purrhaps i was blind? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571728
Comments: 109
Kudos: 653





	1. marinette has a revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! 
> 
> I just want to say thank you to all of you that commented and left love on the first part of this series!! It means the world to me that you guys liked it, so I'm posting the first part now! The second part will be out soon :) 
> 
> This isn't betae'd!! I will go through it soon and look for any glaring mistakes, so pls be gentle :) 
> 
> Also!!! Feel free to read this as a standalone! I wouldn't necessarily recommend it, but the first part isn't ride or die to the fic, just a very nice starter. 
> 
> Enjoy!!!

MARINETTE

“ _Bien joué_!” Both Marinette and Chat’s hands collided in a synchronized fist-bump, similar grins sprouting on their faces. 

“You did pretty _paw_ some out there, milady, if I do say so myself,” Chat teased, shoulder bumping into hers rather gently as they made their way to the edge of the roof. 

Letting out a snort, Marinette turned to Chat and punched him in the shoulder, knowing he’d barely feel it. “Your puns are _claw_ ful,” she deadpanned.

“ _Meowch_ , your words wound me, LB.” 

Not responding, albeit a small smirk formed on her lips, Marinette flung out her yo-yo and landed on the street below, focusing on the akuma victim sitting dazed on the sidewalk. A flock of reporters surrounded her, forcing Marinette to push to the front of the crowd. Once she was inside the circle, the group of people quickly backed away to give them some room, but still stayed too close for comfort. 

“Are you alright, ma’am?” The soft words flew out of her mouth at the sight of the distraught woman, one of Marinette’s hands came to rest on one of her shoulders. “Please don’t be upset, everything is alright now—”

“Did I hurt anyone?” A small whimper left the woman’s mouth as she wrapped her arms around her knees, gently rocking herself. “I never wanted to be one of these people, I can’t—”

Suddenly, Chat was crouched beside the woman as well, a light smile on his face. “Nothing that the ladybugs couldn’t fix, madam. I promise you; everything is alright now. Do you need me to take you home?” 

Hearing the soothing, buttery voice of Chat Noir helped the woman relax tenfold. She shook her head, standing up on shaky knees and dusting herself off. “No, I think I’m okay. Thank you for the offer, Chat Noir. I must get home to my husband and children now. _Bonne journée, Coccinelle et Chat Noir_!” 

Walking away, the akuma victim left both Marinette and Chat Noir slightly confused. Before they could say a word to one another, the reporters closed in on the two heroes. 

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! Thank you guys so much for saving us from that akuma—”

“Is there any way you could give us an interview—” 

“Chat Noir! I want to have your children—”

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw Chat Noir’s eyes go wide and his lips immediately press together. She couldn’t tell whether her partner wanted to laugh or cry at the _older_ woman’s statement. 

Almost simultaneously, as if Tikki and Plagg were trying to get their chosen out of there, their miraculous’ beeped. “Sorry guys,” Chat said, feigning sheepishness. “We have identities to protect. We can try to give you interviews next time, if we don’t have to use our ultimates.” 

“Yes! All of you should go home and get some rest after that attack,” Marinette followed up, her hero smile bright on her face. “I’ll see you later, kitty. Bug out!” 

The skies of Paris formed beautiful hues of pink and orange on her trip home, merging wonderfully to create a ``perfect gradient. Marinette was tempted to stop at the Eiffel Tower and watch the setting sun, but she was out of purse cookies and Tikki needed to recharge. 

“That was a rough akuma today, Tikki,” Marinette pondered as she slipped through the trapdoor on her balcony, dropping her transformation. “Hawkmoth must be really desperate.” 

“Definitely,” Tikki agreed quietly, silently thanking Marinette with her eyes when her chosen gave her two cookies. “You and Chat Noir really have to keep your guards up right now.” 

With a frustrated sigh, Marinette flopped back onto her bed, her hair framing her face. Her lips pursed together as she let out a grunt. “I know. I wish Master Fu hadn’t lost his memories so I could go to him for advice. Maybe he’d know what to do.” 

Munching on her cookies, Tikki floated to lay next to Marinette, pressing into her neck. “Everything happens for a reason, Marinette. You’ll know what to do when the time is right.”

“Your ominous pep talks make me want to bash my head into a wall sometimes,” Marinette muttered tiredly, throwing an arm over her face. She rolled over onto the side that Tikki wasn’t pressed into, grunting when her hip came into contact with something hard. “What the—”

It took a few moments of her maneuvering onto her bed, but she finally found the culprit digging into her body, indenting marks onto her otherwise smooth, albeit pale, skin. 

Marinette froze. 

Nope. There’s no way. Absolutely _no_ way that this was sitting in her bed right now, nope. She refused to believe it. It’s impossible for this to be in her home, in her _bed_ no less. She hadn’t seen the object in years—remembered when she first gave it to him, when he had needed it more than she had. It didn’t make sense for it to be laying in her bed. 

Unless, it did make sense. 

The only fathomable reason for this small, handmade item to be in her house was something she doesn’t want to come to terms with. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to admit it, especially after her recent conversation with Tikki. What if Chat Noir had _found_ the object in question—that it wasn’t his. Maybe he kept it, knowing Marinette had made it? Maybe Adrien was tired of holding onto it, yet felt bad about throwing it out, and asked Chat Noir to return it. 

Adrien wasn’t like that, though. She knew that the blond boy was upfront when he needed to be, regardless of if it would hurt someone. He wasn’t always like that, specifically in _collége_ , yet he’d finally grown a backbone.

Besides, Marinette wasn’t sure whether Adrien still had the _lucky charm_ after all of those years. He was fourteen and she was thirteen when she had given it to him. They were both seventeen now, in their last year of _lycée_. She wouldn’t expect him to carry onto a _stupid_ emblem—maybe she’s salty he’d gotten rid of it—she’d given him back then. 

Letting out a slightly hysterical laugh, Marinette slipped her hand into her hair and tugged hard. She had no room to talk, as she thought of the lucky charm he had given her for her fourteenth birthday that sat tucked away with the pictures she’d taken down off her wall of him. 

_Dieu_ , but what if Adrien _was_ Chat Noir? 

It would make more sense than she’d like to admit, yet it somehow made absolutely no sense at the same time. Sure, their backstories lined up quite well. Chat Noir had cried in her room the other night about being lonely and she _knew_ just by looking at Adrien that he suffered from it too. 

From what she knew, Chat had a shit father and Adrien did, too. She wasn’t sure of Chat’s mother situation. Adrien’s mother had disappeared a year prior to him starting school with the others. They were both wealthy, and neither of them flaunted it. She’d only accidentally found out about Chat when he had bought Ladybug a beautiful anklet for her birth month this year. 

She nearly killed him when he handed her the gift, because she had only bought him a small, cute gag gift that made her think of him for his birth month—he was still so happy about that. When he had handed her the gift, he gave her a small shrug and said that he thought she’d look pretty in it. 

Thinking about it now, she _still_ wanted to kill him. 

The physical similarities were pretty hard to miss now that she was aware Chat might be Adrien. They both had the same, silky blond hair, albeit Adrien’s was tame in comparison to her partner’s. Their vibrant, soul-searching green eyes were effortlessly beautiful, except Chat’s sclera was also green. 

Height wise, Chat may have had an inch or so on Adrien, yet that might’ve been due to black cat’s transformation. Their builds were the same; Chat’s muscles were more defined than Adrien’s, perhaps again from his miraculous. In Adrien’s defense, Marinette had seen him shirtless this summer and Alya had to use the front of her hand to close her gaping mouth. 

“Marinette?” Tikki’s soft-spoken voice caressed her inner turmoil and brought her back down to earth. “What’s going through that mind of yours?” 

“I think I might know who Chat Noir is, Tikki.” 

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Tikki paused, eyes wider than Marinette’s ever seen them. “Well, you are the guardian. How you proceed with that information is up to you.” 

Rolling onto her stomach, Marinette let out a whine, pressing her face into her pillow. “I know,” she grumbled out a bit irritatedly, before flopping back onto her back. Her bangs fell into her eyes. “It doesn’t make it any easier, though. I’m not exactly sure that it’s him.” 

The small smirk that made its way onto Tikki’s face quickly dismissed at Marinette’s grumpy frown. “What? I can’t tell you who it is, even though I wish I could! It’d make your incessant whining stop, at least.” 

“When did you turn into a sassy goddess?” Marinette’s lower lip jutted out into a pout, coaxing a small laugh out of the tiny being floating in front of her. “Stop laughing at me, I thought you were the nice one.” 

“I’m nicer than Plagg is, that’s for sure. It’s fun to mess with you humans, though. _Especially_ ones who know I’m kidding.” Tikki winked at her, fluttering down into the little home Marinette had made her on the side of her bed.

So much for Tikki being of any help. 

What didn’t make sense was their personalities, if Chat Noir truly _was_ Adrien Agreste. They were fundamentally different in many aspects, yet if Marinette looked hard enough, she could see overlapping traits.

Her kitty was the biggest goofball Marinette had ever met in her life and was only serious in dire situations, though growing up had improved that habit. Adrien lacked the ability to relax. She’d only seen him in his true element in times when him, Alya, Nino, and her had hung out outside of school. There, the blond boy threw them dimpled smiles, carefree laughs, smirks that made Marinette wonder if she truly knew him. 

Chat was the flirtiest person in the world, albeit it might just be with her. He was smooth, threw winks out at the perfect moment to make one swoon. A smirk directed at someone could take their breath away. Adrien didn’t have that same suaveness as Chat Noir did, at least, Marinette had never seen it before, if he did.

Where Adrien was quiet, Chat was boisterous. Adrien stood with his back straight, hands clasped politely behind his back. Chat stood slouched, although still tall, a hand cocked onto his hip. Picturing the two of them together had never been a thought Marinette allowed into her mind, and now that she had, they slowly morphed into the same person.

If Adrien wasn’t Chat Noir, Marinette might’ve just broken her own heart.

* * *

“How exactly are you planning on executing this plan of yours, Marinette?” Tikki’s soft-spoken voice muttered from her purse as Marinette strode through her local pharmacy, searching for the right shade of green nail polish for _Le Projet_.

“I’m going to ask him if I could practice on him. If it is Adrien, then he probably wouldn’t be opposed to it, as long as he doesn’t have a shoot coming up.” The aisles consisted of hundreds of nail polish, Marinette referencing back to a picture of Adrien on her phone for the shade she’d been searching for. 

“So _that’s_ why you asked him about his plans for the week in class today?” A fleeting glance to Tikki confirmed her suspicions of a smirk on the goddess’ face. 

Marinette shrugged innocently, plucking a shade of green from the rack. She compared it to Adrien’s photo, chewing nervously on her lower lip. “Yeah, exactly. I needed to know whether or not asking him to keep it on would be pointless.” 

“I like this side of you, chosen.”

Pointing a not so threatening finger down at Tikki, Marinette deadpanned out a response, bangs falling in her eyes as she did so. “Call me chosen again and I’m limiting your cookie supply.” 

The tiny goddess blinked devilishly up at Marinette. “But you are my chosen. I chose you to wield me!” 

Finally deciding on that particular shade of polish, Marinette dropped it into her purse, shutting it. She strode around the store in search of feminine products. Grabbing a box of tampons and a bottle of paracetamol, she laid them neatly in her basket. 

It wasn’t until she had paid for her feminine products and was out of the store, that she reopened her purse to see the disapproving look on Tikki’s face. “Marinette!”

“What? 12 euro for a small bottle of nail polish? No other brand had the shade I wanted,” Marinette defended herself with wide, puppy-dog eyes that she knew would have Tikki on her side in a matter of seconds. 

“You’re a manipulative little human,” Tikki mumbled in response, but a small grin slipped onto her face.

Reaching a hand into her back to scratch Tikki’s chin, Marinette smiled beautifully at her. “You love me.’ 

“Do I, Princess?”

Marinette spun around at the sound of a voice yards deeper than Tikki’s, one that settled in the pit of her stomach. The butterflies that erupted were imminent. “Kitty! Just the boy I wanted to see!” A wicked grin formed on her face. 

Chat Noir stood in front of her, leaning coolly against the brick wall behind him. Marinette’s throat went dry, as Chat’s eyebrow raised, amusedly. “Oh dear, I suddenly have superhero duties to attend to.” 

“My ass,” Marinette snorted, unable to stop herself from looking at his strong arms. _Focus, Marinette_. “I need a favor.” 

That seemed to catch her kitty’s attention. The boy opposite her pushed himself off the wall and crowded into her space, lips quirking into a smirk. “Oh?” His voice was soft, head tilting to the side. “And what’s in it for me, little lady?” 

Opening her mouth to speak, Marinette found herself frozen in that moment. He looked _so_ beautiful standing there in the moonlight, teasing her, and she was struck with the sudden urge to kiss him senseless. 

_No, stop it. Plan first, kisses later_. She did however reach her hand up to scratch the spot behind his cat ears, grinning unashamedly up at him. “I’ll give you all the ear scratches you want.” 

Asking him about the lucky charm might work more in her favor, she knew that. It would give her a direct answer, yet Marinette _wanted_ to tease the boy in front of her. Especially if it was Adrien. She was ninety-one percent sure at this point that it was him. 

Her crush on him had never went away entirely, not really. When she dated Luka in _collége_ years ago, she shoved her feelings for Adrien deep in the pit of her heart. For a while, she believed she was over him. 

Then, her and Luka broke up. It was a mutual breakup, the two of them realizing they were better off as friends. He wanted to leave Paris to pursue his dreams and Marinette couldn’t commit to that. Not as Ladybug, she couldn’t. Her loyalty was with the citizens of Paris. 

Soft sapphire eyes would never compare with eccentric emerald green—not in her lifetime. The tiniest flecks of gold scattered like stars, the crinkles by his eyes after a crude joke. Touches that lit her skin on fire, to her core, sent her spiraling face-first into a cool lake after he retreated. Smiles brighter than Sirius itself, outshining the most luminous stars in the night sky. Umbrellas given out of the kindness of his heart, snapping shut to encase her in embarrassment, yet so much warmth. Reopening to find herself serenaded by an angel’s laugh. 

It was him. It was always him, and it would always be him. 

“Sounds like a deal,” Chat replied with a wink, inadvertently pressing his head up into her hand as she stopped scratching behind his ear. “I’ll stop by after my patrol tonight?” 

“Or maybe you can patrol _after_ my favor?” She slid her hand down to scratch under his chin, widening her eyes purposely to draw out her puppy dog eyes. _Dieu_ Tikki was right, she could be manipulative when she wanted to be. “I won’t take up too much of your time, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

The look on Chat’s face was one she couldn’t read. He was usually so expressive, yet he was suddenly closed off, staring down at her with slightly narrowed eyes. It lasted for a brief moment, before a small smile was back on his face. “Alright, up and at'em,” he replied, stretching his arms out in front of him. 

“Are you looking for huggie wuggies, cat?” Marinette wiggled her eyebrows suggestively in his direction, closing her purse and tying the handles of her pharmacy bag into a knot. She did as she was told then, stepping into his arms, her own coming up around his neck. 

Easily, Chat swept Marinette up off the ground, lifting her up bridal style. He held her close to his chest, sending her a devious smile. “Your transportation has arrived, Princess. Please hold on tight for the remainder of the ride.” 

“I don’t know why I put up with you, sometimes,” Marinette rolled her eyes, grumbling as she shoved her face into his clothed neck, eyes slipping shut. “Your jokes are horrendous.” 

“You act like you hate them, but I can see it in your eyes, Mari,” Chat whispered into her ear, before he took off into a run, strong arms keeping her against his body. “You love my jokes. You love puns. You’re just too cool to admit it.”

“Whatever you say, Cha—” Marinette cut herself off as she felt her stomach drop to the ground. Chat had leapt off the concrete, up onto the top of a car, onto a lamppost, and onto the rooftops. “Gah, maybe warn a girl next time, hey kitty?” 

The boy holding her, whom she trusted with everything in her, laughed out loud. It was an unabashed, loud bark that Marinette hadn’t heard from him before. It warmed her from the inside out, the harsh winds knocking her hair into her face barely noticeable. 

Jumping across rooftops detransformed, albeit with Chat holding her against his chest, scared Marinette more than she’d like to admit. The idea of falling without being Ladybug was a fear she’d had when she first was given the suit, all those years ago, yet she trusted Chat not to drop her. She knew he would never do anything to put her into harm's way, whether she was transformed or not.

The trip took less than a minute, as she wasn’t far from home to begin with. Chat’s ability to trapeze across rooftops and land on her balcony made it swift and easy. He set her down onto the ground, the top of her head level with his chin. “Sometimes I forget how small you are,” he teased, reaching a hand up to pat her head.

“I’m not small, you’re just tall,” Marinette quipped with a slight pout, lowering her arms from his neck to flick him in the nose. “You’re literally a giant. How’s the weather up there, huh?”

A smile grazed his features, his head tilting to the side like a cat. Marinette’s heart thumped harshly. “Pretty nice. Children cower in fear when they see me. I’ve become the village outcast because I just won’t stop growing.” 

“How tall are you now, anyway? At this point, you’re going to surpass buildings and give King Kong a run for his money.” The two of them crawled through Marinette’s trapdoor, landing gently on the bed. Marinette closed it behind them, ignoring the way she felt Chat’s eyes on her as she did so.

Cackling quietly to himself, Chat shoved at Marinette gently with his own shoulders, rolling his eyes as he settled next to her. Their hands brushed against the bed. “I’m like one hundred eighty nine centimeters. You’re probably like one hundred forty five or something.”

Without hesitating, Marinette turned her body towards Chat and punched him in the shoulder, albeit gently, narrowing her eyes at him. “For your information, cat, I’m one hundred _fifty seven_ centimeters. I’m not that tiny!” 

“Little lady,” is all Chat said to her, eyes filled with mirth as he sat crisscrossed in front of her, leaning back onto his hands casually. The string lights framed him beautifully, the perfect addition to her room in her opinion. His black suit stark in contrast to her bright pink walls.

It took everything in Marinette not to crawl on his lap and kiss him then, her hands shoved underneath her thighs. It was weird thinking that underneath the suit, her kind-of not smooth crush could have been the one teasing her all this time. In all honesty, it made his flirting even more appreciated and exciting, knowing she could make Adrien of all people _want_ to flirt with someone like that.

That boy deserved loved more than anyone she knew—Chat Noir _and_ Adrien. Whether they were one in the same, they both deserved it, and she was planning on giving it to the boy in front of her, even if it meant giving up Adrien in the long run.

If her suspicions were right, and it truly was Adrien behind the mask, then she wouldn’t have to give up either. That would make her the happiest in the end.

“—Marinette. _Marinette, are you there?_ Am I going to have to flick you in the nose? Geez, I’ve heard of spacing out, but I’ve never seen anyone blatantly ignore someone like this—”

“What happened? Where am I? What?” Feeling frazzled in her own skin, Marinette jerked her head up to stare at Chat Noir, wetting her lips. “Sorry, kitty. I must’ve zoned out. What were you saying?”

“I’m not even surprised,” he drawled, stretching his toe out to press it into her knee. “You’ve always been a bit spacey, Princess.” 

“ _Spacey_? Chat Noir, what do you think you’re doing? Do you think teasing me is the way to my heart or something?” It was a joke; she _knew_ it was a joke, yet why did her stomach flutter as she said it?

 _Dieu_ , she was a goner for this fucking furry sitting in front of her.

“Yeah, I already know it’s the way to your heart. That’s alright. You’ll catch up at some point, Mari,” he sassed back with a wink, leaning forward a bit so he was in her space.

She couldn’t help but splutter at his words, “C-Chat Noir! You sly devil, you!”

Winking at her, he turned off the flirting for a moment as he spoke this time, “Alright, as much as I hate to rush this, this cat does have somewhere to be in a little bit. What’d you need me for?”

Silently, Marinette reached for her purse that was behind her, opening it with it tilted towards her. Tikki was thankfully no longer in the bag, probably hidden away in her tiny home. She grabbed the emerald green nail polish and the black one she had set aside prior to leaving, holding them up for Chat to see. “Before you say no—”

Unable to help himself, Chat interrupted her, “You want me to paint your nails? Why would I say no to you for that?”

“As much as I’d love for you to paint my nails, I don’t know if you could do the design I’m going for? So, I was wondering if I could paint them on your nails as practice, maybe?” The flush that rose onto Marinette’s face was brighter than the shirt she was wearing, nearly staining her cheeks for a moment.

If he said no to her, she didn’t know what she’d do. She could say _fuck it_ and ask him about the charm, but she really wanted to tease him—

“Y-you want to paint _my_ nails? No that I’m necessarily opposed to it,” he quickly reaffirmed her, lips quirking into a reassuring smile. “I just… I’ve never gotten them painted before. Is it weird?”

“It might feel weird at first until they fully dry,” she admitted, lifting his hand gently to assess it, marveling at how it felt in her hand—strong and careful. “But I’m not giving you acrylics or anything, I’m just painting them.”

Chat’s eyes bounced from her face to where she was holding his hand, his fingers flexing slightly in her grip. Her own hand closed lightly around his, tiny and pale in comparison to his own. Her fingers were nimble, slightly covered in old scratches, and soft.

“Alright,” Chat finally relented, the smallest of smiles on his face. “For you? I’ll do it.”

Marinette’s heart warmed at his words, her hand squeezing his just the tiniest bit. “Thank you, kitty. This means more to me than you know.”

“Do you have that nail polish stuff that I could use to wipe it off afterwards?”

“About that,” Marinette muttered, almost shyly. She was going to manipulate him, again. Tikki was right, she had a problem. Her eyes widened slightly as she stared up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Could you maybe keep it on for a few days? At least until you see me next?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, hand twitching in her grip. “Why? Weren’t you doing it to practice on me?”

“Yes! Except I don’t know how long and well these paints work together, and I want them to look perfect.” Marinette’s lower lip jutted out, as she rose onto her knees slightly, so she was the same height as him. “Please, kitty? I’ll do whatever you want.”

A flush rose from his next, all the way up to his cheeks. “Marinette! You can’t just say things like that—”

“I can say whatever I want, Chat Noir. I _will_ do whatever you want, just ask it and I’ll do it.”

“ _Mon Dieu_ ,” Chat grumbled as he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down harshly onto his lower lip. She was worried he was going to make it bleed. “I’ll do it, little lady, just stop with the words, that’s all I ask.”

The biggest smile made its way onto Marinette’s face as she pushed her body forward, wrapping her arms firmly around Chat’s neck. “You’re the best, Chat.”

“You’re going to kill me one day,” was the response she received, albeit his arms encased themselves around her body tightly, nearly pulling her onto his lap. “If I end up dead, write ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng caused this’ on my gravestone, alright?”

“Shut your mouth right now,” Marinette said through a fit of laughter, pushing him away from her and flicking him on the forehead. “You’re so stupid, oh _mon dieu_.”

Without him saying it, the words _make me_ were written all over, a smirk residing on his lips.

“How are we going to do this, anyway? I can’t exactly take my gloves off or I’ll detransform and my ring will come off.”

“Oh, I almost forgot! One second!” She quickly climbed down her ladder, sifting through her drawers to find what she was looking for. It took her all of ten seconds, and she let out an _aha!_ as she found it, up the stairs to her bed before Chat could say a word to her. “I have a mask for you!”

Pursing his lips together, Chat glanced down at what Marinette had in her hand and started laughing, a loud, belly-aching bark. “ _Really_ Marinette? A Spider-Man mask?”

“What?” She asked quietly, an innocent grin on her face. ‘Spider-Man is a pretty cool superhero. I thought you would’ve liked him, no?”

“No! No, he’s cool! I didn’t say I didn’t like him, it’s just…” He paused, gently grabbing the mask and running his hands along it, lost in his thoughts for a second. “Never mind, Mari. It’s not important.”

Sensing a change in atmosphere, Marinette leaned forward and tapped her finger against the spot between his eyebrows, whispering firmly, “If it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t exactly whip up a Chat Noir mask last minute, so settling for a wannabe superhero mask was the best I could do.”

He shot her a _thanks_ without saying anything, and before Marinette knew it, her eyes were shut and he was detransforming in front of her for the second time within a week, completely trusting her not to peek at him while he was pulling the mask over his head. It fit like a glove, covering his hair and rolling to rest at his neck when she was finally able to look up at him.

Seeing her kitty in another superhero’s mask was weird and so _wrong_ , yet if she wanted to pull this off, this was her best bet.

“Alright, alright,” Marinette breathed out, gently taking one of his hands in the two of hers. “You have to stay still, yeah? Be a good kitty.” 

“Mm, Chat Noir can do that,” Chat reaffirmed, lips curving up into a smile through the mask. “No worries, little lady! Chat Noir has it in the bag.” 

“Stop talking about yourself in third person. It’s weird,” was her reply, as she got to work on paining his nails the emerald green color she had stolen—er _bought_ from the store. She stayed within the lines easily, used to painting her own nails and a bunch of the other girls at her school. A steady hand is what made her decent at sewing and designing. Otherwise her stitches would be all over the place and she’d never make it in the fashion world.

The quietness in the room settled nicely; it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. Chat Noir started humming the tune to some American pop song that Marinette had vaguely heard before, filling the space between them wonderfully.

“ _Let’s waste time, chasing cars, around our heads_ ,” Chat crooned quietly, flexing his fingers slightly and tapping out a rhythm with them, in his own little world. He didn’t notice Marinette pausing as she accidentally swiped the green nail polish over his thumb, as per his finger movements.

“Chat Noir! What did you say about being a good kitty?” Marinette teased him, quickly setting the little brush back in the tub and closing it, reaching for the nail polish remover and a cotton swab. She coated the swab in remover, going to grab his hand again when he jerked it back.

“Shit— _fuck_ , Mari, I’m so sorry. I told you I wouldn’t move, yet I started thinking of this piano melody I had learned for that song years ago, and my fingers moved on their own accord—”

“—Chat—”

“—and I _really_ don’t want to screw this up for you because I _know_ how much this means to you, obviously. You mean a lot to me too, so I wouldn’t want to mess it up for you—”

“—Chat Noir, listen to me—" She thought about kissing him to stop his rant, albeit ended up deciding against it.

“—and my father always looks at me disappointed and tells me that I have to do better whenever I screw up. Shit, I’m _really_ sorry. I’ll do better, I promise. I won’t move my hands again—”

Marinette quickly realized that Chat’s rant was going to continue, whether she said anything or not. She grabbed his hand again, firmer this time, using the swab to remove the polish that had spread onto his thumb. When she was done, she twisted his hand in his direction, to show him that she fixed it.

He paused, obviously staring at his finger through the mask. “Oh, I didn’t know you could just fix it.”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Marinette snorted, shooting him a _you’re such a dork_ look, lips curved into a fond smile. “You didn’t have to go into the world’s longest rant, you know. I wasn’t mad at you.”

“I know,” Chat said, shrugging one shoulder languidly. “That didn’t mean you weren’t disappointed, though. You asked me to do something and I failed.”

Frowning, Marinette reached her free hand up to rest on his shoulder—clad in a black, short sleeve t-shirt that clung to his arms. “You don’t have to always succeed around me, kitty. It’s okay for you to just be you, okay?”

“Okay.” The tenseness in his shoulders released, his words super quietly as he curled in on himself. “You’re one of the few people I can be myself around. My true self, at least. As much as I can be without showing you my identity.”

She couldn’t help herself, asking even though she knows she shouldn’t. She would unpack that baggage he held deep in his heart, tucked away in a locked briefcase, once the whole identity reveal situation was over. “Is it enough?”

“It will be,” was his response, his hand slipping into hers for a moment and squeezing, reassuring her.

Marinette sincerely believed him.

* * *

Winter was Marinette’s least favorite time of year.

The cold, Parisian mornings were the worst. No matter how much she layered up, covered her ears and chin with a winding scarf, or even wore the thickest jacket she owned, she was still freezing. Even as Ladybug she was cold, though the suit countered most of the brutal winds and harsh temperatures.

Snow sucked. It looked so beautiful, yet when it touched her skin, she couldn’t help the soft yelps that would leave her mouth. Its iciness was like a plague to her body, chilling her from the inside out.

To make matters worse, her school was hosting a spirit week, and today’s theme was _animals_ , which was suggested by none other than Chloé herself. Marinette’s pretty sure Chloé’s reasoning for it was so the blond could come dressed up to school in her expensive Ladybug costume.

Not to say Marinette wasn’t in the holiday spirit, because she was! She was a designer for _dieu_ sake, but she was more focused on the whole Adrien might be Chat Noir situation that she hadn’t thought of an animal to be!

Which meant scrambling around her room late last night to try and find something suitable to wear, only to strike an idea at the very last minute and hastily execute it.

Marinette hoped she’d pulled it off well enough.

A long-sleeved black shirt with a pocket on the left side was her choice for a top. She’d stenciled in a paw print on the pocket and painted it with green and black fabric paint, letting it dry overnight. After that situation was taken care of, she’d put together a pair of black skinny jeans with a black belt, and a slightly oversized leather jacket she’d never worn before. Her shirt was tucked into the jeans which were tucked into her black Chelsea boots.

Then, she made sure her jet-black hair was parted evenly down the middle, setting the black cat ears onto her head. The makeup she had done for the look was simple, yet catlike. Her eyes were done in a black smokey eye, her bluebell eyes stark against the dark shade. The tip of her nose was painted black, little whiskers drawn on her cheeks. She decided to go with black lipstick for dramatic effect.

In the end, she painted her nails the same exact way she did Chat’s, so any suspicion the boy had about her needing to practice on him was squashed. Hers came out slightly wonky, as it was rushed, but it’d work for effect.

Nearly running into Tom down in the bakery, she thanked him quickly for the coffee and croissants he provided her with and scurried out the door, towards the metro. Unfortunately, her _lycée_ wasn’t as close as her _collége_ was, albeit a stop on the metro wasn’t the end of the world.

The looks she received on the metro were a mix of _damn girl, okay_ and _what is happening_ , yet they weren’t her target. She was a woman on a mission, _thank you very much_.

Tucked away neatly in her bag, in a small green envelope, was her make it or break it item. Whether she used it or not would rely on seeing Adrien’s nails. If they matched hers, she’d slip the envelope into his locker, and the plan was a go. If she was unable to see his nails today, it would have to wait until a later date, in which she hoped her civilian self wouldn’t see Chat before she had that chance.

Quickly, she walked up the stairs from the metro, ignoring a group of boys around her age cat calling her. She lifted her middle finger up, the small green paw print on her finger a sentiment in itself. It didn’t stop the whistling, yet it made her feel a little better.

Outside of the school, on the grand steps leading to the entrance, she saw Alya’s rainbow bag from a mile away. Alya was wearing a unicorn onesie, bright hair peeking out from the corner of her hood with a horn. To her left, stood Nino, in a horse onesie, and Marinette had to hide her mouth as she walked up to the two of them, shooting Nino a pitied look.

“Alya really roped you into this one, didn’t she Nino?” A smirk pushed its way onto Marinette’s face as she patted his arm, chewing on her lower lip, before she said, “It’s okay, I think you look _mare_ velous.”

“Ugh,” Nino groaned, not even looking at Marinette as he shoved her away. “Nette, if you don’t get those puns out of here in two seconds—”

“Shut up,” Alya said with a laugh, stepping in front of Marinette and taking in her outfit. Marinette twirled around for her, striking a silly pose at the end of it. “Girl, you look incredible. Had I known you were going to dress this hot, I might’ve joined you.”

With a smirk, Marinette eyed her up and down jokingly, sending a wink her way. “I’ve _unia_ nimously voted you hottest girl in our grade of _lycée_ ,” she told her, wiggling her eyebrows. “Take me out on a date sometime, I’m _horn_ y for your love.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that many puns come out of your mouth since I’ve met you,” a voice said from behind her.

Spinning around, Marinette nearly stumbled over her feet when she saw Adrien standing there in front of her, dressed casually in a cream Gucci hoodie with the words _Maison De L’amour_ written on the top and _Sine Amore Nihil_ written under _Gucci_. His pants were cream as well, tight skinny jeans that had been on brand for him since they’d hit their last year of school before uni. What was most shocking to her was their matching noses, the tip of his painted black as well.

From what Marinette could tell, he was dressed as a half-assed sloth, and it made him even cuter. “Father wouldn’t let me leave the house with any makeup on, so I had to do it in the car,” she had found out, later on.

His hands were shoved deep into his hoodies’ pockets, when she glanced briefly at them. She understood why he was hiding them, yet it saddened her slightly. The two of them shared a few classes together, along with Alya and Nino, as their graduating class wasn’t that large. Their lunch hour was the same, too, so maybe she’d be able to catch a look then.

“I’m really embodying this Chat Noir persona. That cat sure loves his puns,” Marinette replied smoothly, her hip cocked out slightly. She wanted him to stare at her, to notice the effort she put in for him whether he realized it or not.

And, he did—stare at her, that is. His eyes raked over her body for a few moments, slightly wide as he took in her outfit. Not to be cocky, but she knew she looked good, so she wanted a reaction from him. His eyes paused on the green paw print on her shirt pocket, then they dropped down to where her hand was on her hip, to the nail polish she was wearing.

Whether the change of face was for that or her entire outfit, she was unsure. His reaction was well worth the lack of sleep she had gotten that night.

“Do you like it?” She asked him innocently, lips curling into a smile as she stared up at him through her eyelashes. “Chat Noir doesn’t really get the appreciation he deserves, so I thought I’d dress up as him. To, y’know, show some appreciation.”

Quiet for a moment, Adrien licked his lips, seemingly rendered speechless. “Yeah,” he finally breathed, a real smile breaking onto his face. A rare occasion for him, as he was usually so polite and _perfect_ in public, not much authenticity in his actions. He looked so much like Chat in that moment. “You look really nice, Mari.”

“Thank you,” she told him truthfully, the brightest of smiles on her face. “That means a lot to me, coming from you.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Alya interrupted, albeit with a bit of hesitance. “Knock it off and lets head to homeroom before we’re marked late by your flirting.”

“We weren’t flirting!” Adrien exclaimed from behind her as the four of them walked towards homeroom, her and Alya in front of him and Nino.

Hearing a snicker from behind her, Marinette barely managed to stop herself from turning around to look at the two boys. “Sure, dude. Keep telling yourself that.”

Marinette grinned all the way to homeroom.

x

In the beginning of the year, when class had first started, Marinette hated the idea of a circular lecture hall for their _L’Anglais_ _205_ class. The fact that nearly everyone could see her at all times left her on edge, especially since she wasn’t the best at English. It meant that when she spoke aloud, everyone could see her fumble along her words.

Today, Marinette _adored_ the idea of a circular lecture hall. She shared the lecture hall with Alya, Nino, Adrien, and Chloé. There was only one circle of chairs, so as long as the person wasn’t sitting right next to her, she could see what they were doing at almost all times without being suspicious.

She thanked everything in her that Chloé wanted to sit next to both her and Adrien, which meant that Adrien was in her peripherals with a slight glance to the right.

 _There’s no way he’s getting out of this one_ , she thought with a laugh, eyeing the rest of the students as they sat down for class. There were a few Ladybug’s, including Chloé, some bad attempts at Chat Noir, and a bunch of other animals.

Before she knew it, Adrien and Nino walked in, fist-bumping as they departed to their seats, Nino sitting on Marinette’s other side, right next to Alya. Adrien and Nino shared a table in their _La Physique 407_ class, so Nino let Chloé share Adrien for a bit, since that was their only class together.

If anyone on the planet were to tell her that Chloé Bourgeois would be one of her best friends in _lycée_ , she would tell them that they were crazy. Except, it happened, and Marinette learned that Chloé was one of the coolest people once she received the right type of love.

“You look hot,” Chloé had told her, turning to Adrien and flicking him in the ear. “Right, Adrien? Tell Marinette she looks hot.”

“I think you told her enough for all of us,” Adrien quipped back, rubbing at his ear with a pout on his face, no nails in sight. _Drat_. “C’mon, Chlo! Those nails of yours are long, lay off the ears.” Marinette didn’t miss the rosiness to his cheeks, as her own were fairing the same.

“Then don’t be a brat,” Chloé sniffed, blond ponytail nearly flicking Adrien in the face as she faced Marinette, a smirk on her face. “So, why did you dress up as Chat Noir? Did you want to be the cat to my bug?”

Laughing loudly, Marinette shoved Chloé in the shoulders gently, rolling her eyes as her cheeks returned to their normal color. “You’re such a dork sometimes, holy crap. How did I not know this?”

“Nobody would ever believe you if you told them.” Chloé shrugged, unpacking her bag at a slow place once their teacher finally entered the room.

“I’ll write about it on the Ladyblog,” Alya joked from her left, which had Marinette ducking as Chloé reached over to tug on Alya’s hair, cackling loudly. The two of them were sent stern looks from their teacher as she set up, yet their teacher was smiling, as Alya and Chloé’s antics weren’t news to the class.

From where she was ducked, she could see Adrien grinning over at her, him mouthing ‘ _are you alright’_ to her, albeit she knew he was teasing her. He was leaned in slightly towards her, eyebrows drawn up just a bit.

She narrowed her eyes at him, glancing briefly over at the teacher. When the teacher wasn’t looking, Marinette flipped him the bird, wanting a reaction from him.

He didn’t look as offended as he usually would, as his eyes were drawn to the design on her finger. She could tell from knowing him— _Chat_ , that he wanted to touch, to run his hand over the polish and see if it was flat or not. He’d done the same thing last night, over his own hand when it was dry.

After the whole bit of him moving and making her mess up, he had sat so still that she thought he had forgotten how to breathe at one point. She purposely messed up, so he would relax a bit and not be so serious. It helped, in the end.

Satisfied, she sat up straight in her seat, averting her eyes from his face to stare at the teacher. She could still feel his eyes on her, but she paid him no mind, doodling in the margins on her tablet. Her cheeks were slightly aflame, yet no one else was the wiser.

Though, Marinette was kind of sad that they were sporting matching nail polishes and she wouldn’t be able to take a picture of it. Maybe she’d end up doing their nails again, after the reveal, and she’d post the photo to Instagram.

The class droned on and on, Marinette unable to pay attention for more than five minutes. From this angle, she was unable to see Adrien’s hands on his tablet without directly looking at him. She didn’t want him to catch her staring, as he’d figure out that she knew or was at the very least suspicious.

Then, as if she’d been slapped in the face, like someone had dumped cold water over her head, or she had hit her elbow hard on the desk, Adrien moved. It was quick—were she not Ladybug, she might’ve missed it entirely.

His hand jerked up towards his face to rub at the corner of his nose, right near the black paint. He had used his pointer finger to scratch at the side she couldn’t see, but his hand was tilted enough that the green paw print on his middle finger was _just_ visible, confirming her suspicions.

 _Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir_. The boy she had been in love with since _collége_ was the same boy she had been fighting to keep Paris safe with for years. Her kitty, adorable and sweet, loved to crack puns at any expense, was a cupcake that needed to be kept safe, was a model. The son of Gabriel Agreste, who she learned was the biggest asshole known to man. Her kitty, who wasn’t given or shown enough love, was the boy who hid behind fake smiles and a polite attitude, never showing too much of himself.

Adrien, also kind yet distant, who sometimes joked and never really knew what was going on, was someone she fought crime with. Had the biggest heart and wanted the best for everyone, yet went home every night to a mansion big enough to house hundreds, was lonely. He never felt any warmth, had freaked out and cried to her on her balcony, in her bed, had _kissed_ her.

The revelation was mind-blowing, life-changing, time-stopping. Her hand was frozen on her tablet, pressing down a bit too hard, lips slightly parted. She wanted to scream, to jump out of her seat and hug Adrien as tight as she could. To tell him how much she cared for him and to remind him that someone loved him, because she knew he needed it.

Both Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir deserved so much more than they got. From the stuff Marinette had heard from Chat about his distant parents, and from Adrien about how his father would sometimes step out of line with his words, it broke her heart.

To feel as if a parent didn’t love you? Marinette couldn’t deal with that. She didn’t know how Adrien did; she assumed it stemmed from his friends and being Chat Noir. That must be what kept him going at the end of the day.

Tears formed in the corner of her eyes, her hands balling into fists. Gabriel Agreste was a horrible person and Adrien deserved so much better. She thought of how he grew up, all alone in that room of his, without parental guidance to help him through the little things. Her parents had always been there for her, especially when things got tough. To know that Adrien didn’t have that guidance—that _love_ in his home? She would soon change that, if it were the last thing she did.

Raising her hand in the air with determination set on her face, she asked the teacher, in English, if she could go to the bathroom. When the teacher said yes, she grabbed her bag, tablet still laying on the table, and scurried out of the room.

She’d decided what she was going to do, one she wasn’t going to step down from. Her bag burned a hole into her side, Marinette’s hand tapping a rhythm into her thigh, as she strode around in search of Adrien’s locker.

Once she found _locker_ _13_ , which was located upstairs in comparison to her ground-level _L’Anglais_ class, she sifted through her messenger bag and found the green envelope. As soon as she put the envelope in his locker, there was no going back. She owed him that much, to complete what she was about to start.

With a whine, she slipped the envelope through the small hole of the locker, letting out a sigh of relief once it was inside.

 _Don’t worry, kitty_ , she thought in her mind, as she made her way back to class. Once she was settled in her seat, she spared a glance over to Adrien to see him already looking at her, a grin on his face.

She smiled back at him, ignoring Alya’s curious glances at them. _You’ll be happy soon enough_.


	2. adrien's starting to spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiraling is a light term to use for what Adrien's going through, evidently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do i SAY? thank you so much to everyone for all the love on this fic!!!!!!! 
> 
> quick note: this has now been changed from a 2 chapter completion fic to a 3 chapter completion fic bc i still have a bunch to write and this is already like 8k....... so i decided to post it, to keep y'all in the loop while i continue writing!!!!!
> 
> ALSO, this is terribly beta'd!!! i apologize in advance! 
> 
> thank you so much again, for all the love! thank u to van for letting me cry to her about this

ADRIEN

The amount of times Adrien nearly fell down the stairs was becoming concerning. He was a clumsy mess, unable to get it together, couldn’t after seeing Marinette dressed like _that_. It’s not as if Marinette wasn’t trendy—she was a fashion designer, her outfits were always on point. Adrien thought it might be the combination of kissing her, realizing his feelings, and the outfit all in one.

 _Dieu_ , it was doing things to his brain to see her in that outfit. She looked absolutely _stunning_ , especially in the leather jacket as she pulled it off so well. He wanted to lean her up against a locker and mess up her black lipstick a little bit—

 _Oof_. Third time's a charm of almost face-planting the floor. He adjusted his backpack as he headed to his locker to grab his physics books, popping it open as soon as he got there. There wasn’t enough time for him to doddle between classes, so he kept his locker open at all times, keeping the important stuff on him.

Quickly, Adrien swapped out his bag, settling it on his back once he was finished. He went to close his locker when a small, green envelope caught his eye, lying flat on the bottom of his locker.

“What is that?” Furrowing his eyebrows together, he grabbed the small envelope, groaning as he heard the warning bell signal class was about to start. “If I’m late again, _Mme. Bisset_ will have my head.” 

Using both his long legs and extra stamina from being Chat Noir, Adrien made it to class as the final bell rang, face slightly red. From the back corner of the room, he could see Nino snickering at him, Adrien sending him an unamused look as he slid into the seat next to him. 

“Shut up,” was all Adrien said, pouting.

“You were really about to give yourself a detention so close to Christmas? Your old man would’ve had your head,” Nino murmured as he passed a test booklet to Adrien, half-smiling.

Adrien chewed on his lower lip. Should he tell Nino about the envelope in his locker? He hadn’t even opened it yet and it could be confidential. However, If the person didn’t want it seen by others, wouldn’t they have personally given it to them? The letter would have to stay a mystery for now, until he knew whether he should keep it a secret. 

Slowly, he slid the letter back into his backpack, resisting the urge to scratch his blackened nose. It itched so much, and now that he wasn’t in class with Marinette, he didn’t have to worry about her seeing the nail polish she did on his alter ego.

“Yeah, he would’ve had my head,” Adrien resorted to saying, after a moment, before the two of them focused on the task at hand so _Mme. Bisset_ didn’t accuse them of cheating. 

x

The letter wasn’t able to be opened until later on, when he had decided to walk to his and Ladybug’s patrol spot rather than run there transformed. He’d still have to transform to vault up onto the roof, yet the Paris air was particularly warm that night, so a light jacket and gloves sufficed for his walk. 

With Plagg purring against his collarbone inside his shirt, he felt confident enough in opening the letter, his heart skipping a beat. The fact that somebody put a letter in his locker, regardless of the reason, was sweet and thoughtful. He took extra care in saving the green envelope that was designed beautifully with his name on it. 

_Oh_. It was a drawing, not a letter. That made sense as to why the envelope was larger than a normal-sized one. It wasn’t a professional drawing, not in the least, yet nevertheless made Adrien’s heartbeat faster. Whether it was the fact that somebody had drawn something for him, or the fact that it was him laying on a couch, one leg straight and the other bent, his hand propping his head up, he wasn’t sure. 

It was definitely him though, even though the drawing wasn’t professionally made, the small amount of details the anonymous person put into it was enough for him to see his own details in it. From the shape of his mouth, to the way his hair curled over his forehead and around his ears, even to the way he could raise just one of his eyebrows. 

The artist hadn’t used coloring or shading of any sorts; it was a simple drawing. Adrien was sure it was him though, and he was kind of sad he didn’t know the perpetrator who had made it. He wanted to thank them for the lovely gift. 

It could be anyone, as he would consider himself one of the more popular kids in his _lycée_ , especially now that he was in _terminale_ and would be graduating in a few months. He’d had the same unlucky locker 13 since starting at the school, so anyone could’ve slipped it inside. 

But _who_ could’ve or would’ve done it, was the question. He didn’t have an answer.

Sighing, Adrien gently put the drawing back in its envelope, he slid it into one of his pockets and hid in an alley to transform. Soon, he was vaulting on rooftops towards him and Ladybug’s patrol meetup. 

As per usual, Adrien made it there first, so he chose to spend his time lounging on the Eiffel Tower, legs dangling over the side. He wasn’t afraid of heights, not anymore, though sometimes standing high off the ground did cause his vision to swim. 

He hummed to himself, eyes slipping shut as he quietly sang, “Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his lady.” The song wasn’t one he had heard in a long time, yet lately it had been stuck in his head, as if it was deep in his memories. 

It soothed him for some unbeknownst reason, lulled him even though the song wasn’t necessarily a happy one. It ran through his thoughts and reminded him of a time years ago, when he had been sitting on a rooftop and Ladybug had cuddled him, the only time she had been affectionate like that with him outside of an akuma attack. Sure, they’d hugged on holidays, during their birth months, for celebrations, after a nasty akuma attack, but that day, she had hugged him for no other reason than him being him. 

Years later, it still affected him. She still affected him, even if he was aware that it wasn’t in the same way as before. He admired her, the brave and gut-wrenchingly beautiful woman she’d turned into, yet she was also something she’d always been: unattainable. Finally, his mind recognized that, after years of tormenting himself after countless rejections during _collége_. 

Ladybug was unattainable. She was his best friend, someone who he trusted, no, _had_ to trust with his life. He didn’t know much about her—the love he had for her was a love at first sight type of deal, one where her personality was purposely bare-boned. He’d never truly known her, not for the person she actually was, and he never would.

Loving Ladybug was like being electrocuted and constantly feeling the sting. It was being set on fire and there wasn’t enough water to put it out. It was blinding smiles, short conversations. It was never enough, it never sated him. 

Liking Marinette—could he use the word love? Was it too soon? He wasn’t sure—was like walking into an air-conditioned room after being in the heat for too long. It was like having sunburn, and using aloe vera to soothe the bite. It was gentle touches, obnoxious laughs, painting nails. It was enough, this time. She was enough. 

Telling her sounded scary, he thought, kicking his legs back and forth with a sigh. He didn’t want to lose her friendship, not after it had taken her so long to warm up to him. Now that he had it—had _her_ , the idea of her not being in his life seemed impossible and something he didn’t want to experience. 

Because if he didn’t have her, he’d be losing the sun, no, the _warmth_ he hadn’t known he needed. 

That wasn’t something he was willing to risk, was it? Was the chance to be with her, if she potentially liked him—which, why would she like someone as boring and lackluster as Adrien—enough to endanger the best friendship besides Nino he’d ever had?

He needed to do some serious thinking, not while he was sat up on the Eiffel Tower with Ladybug on her way. Adrien was never good at keeping secrets, besides being a superhero. He didn’t want to accidentally blurt something out that gave his identity away, not when Ladybug didn’t want that. 

“ _Coucou mon petit pomme de terre_.” 

Adrien’s mind went completely blank, eyes widening as his legs stopped swinging. _What?_ Slowly, he turned around to look at her. “Ladybug?” 

“Oh my god.” she said, her own eyes widening and her hand coming up over her mouth. “I did not just say that, did I?” 

“You did,” was all Adrien was able to reply, unable to stop the bewildered, yet amused look from appearing on his face. “May I ask why you called me a small potato?” 

Adrien watched as Ladybug literally smacked her head on a metal bar in front of her, albeit gently, and made his way over to her slowly, as if she were a wounded animal. “Milady? Are you alright?” 

“No,” she whined, still not facing him, her shoulders curling into herself. “This was not supposed to go like this!” 

“What was not supposed to go like this?” Adrien was so confused, his head tilting to the side. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, you know that right?” They both knew that he didn’t fully mean it, as she wouldn’t tell him if it put her identity at risk. 

“I just—” Ladybug started with a sigh, finally turning around to face him. Her cheeks were flushed red, eyebrows knitted together, and she looked _embarrassed_. “I was trying to be suave, okay? And I called you a fucking _potato_.” 

Ladybug was trying to be suave? Towards him? He didn’t believe it. She was probably playing a joke on him, or wanted to try out a line she was going to try on the boy she liked. Which was okay with him, although it still hurt. The slight racing of his heart didn’t compare to how it might’ve months ago. 

Reaching a hand forward to grip her shoulder gently, he squeezed and allowed a smile to break free on his face. “Actually, you called me your little potato, if we’re being technical.” 

“I’m going to push you off this ledge, Chat Noir, so help me—” Ladybug was cut off by a cackling Adrien, his arms wrapping around her for a tight hug, a last one that Adrien allowed himself before his heart finally let her go for good. 

He would always love her, even if it was a little bit, albeit she was no longer going to be the object of his affection. That ship had sailed long ago, and wouldn’t be docking in Adrien’s heart anymore. It had another dock to stop at, and he was okay with that. 

When he pulled back from the embrace, it was to notice a slightly dopey smile on her face. Quickly, she schooled her features, her eyebrows furrowing together. “What was that for?” 

Adrien shrugged one of his shoulders, lips quirked into a smile. “You looked a little embarrassed. Thought you deserved a hug.” 

“I wasn’t embarrassed. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ladybug sniffed. 

“Alright, Bug. You definitely weren’t embarrassed, sure,” Adrien shot back, a smirk replacing his smile. “Those cheeks of yours are just naturally rosy, huh?” 

Ladybug shoved him off the ledge without a second thought. Adrien wrapped his tail around her leg and dragged her off the Eiffel Tower with him, cackling loudly as she cursed him out in three different languages. 

x

“There’s not many people who haven’t been akumatized at this point,” Ladybug pointed out to Adrien, leaning back on her hands as she stared up at the night sky. 

They had just finished patrolling for the night, Ladybug having suggested that they sit around for a bit and hang out since it had been a while since they’d done it. Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to say no.

Nodding, Adrien stretched his leg out to press his foot into her thigh, toes digging into her suit. It caused her to glare at him, and he laughed. “You’re not wrong. I’m surprised we haven’t caught him, though.”

“Hawkmoth could go eat an ass and die for all I care,” Ladybug muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl. “I don’t get how someone could terrorize Paris the way he does. The casualties that the ladybugs couldn’t reverse—” 

“I know,” Adrien interrupted her, pressing his foot into her thigh once more, albeit more gently this time. “We’ll get him, Bug.” 

He understood more than anyone how those deaths affected her. She thought it was her fault, as did he, when a civilian died due to Hawkmoth’s terror. Anything that happened between the time an akuma was activated and Ladybug threw her lucky charm and called for the ladybugs was reversed, Deaths caused from chaos, trepidation, and anything not during that time were unable to be reversed, they’d found out. 

The numbers weren’t nearly as high as they could be, thanks to the ladybugs, yet they felt each death and it wore them down personally. It was the saddest part of being a superhero, when they had to explain to a family or loved ones what happened, out of respect. 

“Oh!” Ladybug had called out suddenly, sitting up and leaning towards Adrien, hands flying around wildly. “Do you think he could’ve purposely akumatized himself to throw us off his trail?” 

Tilting his head to the side, Adrien hummed thoughtfully. It sounds plausible. “ _Purr_ haps he could have, but where’s the sudden idea coming from?” 

Ladybug’s eyes widened for a moment, before they returned to normal and she shrugged, breaking eye contact with him. “Well, I’ve certainly thrown people off of my trail of being Ladybug before, so who’s to say that Hawkmoth wouldn’t?”

“That’s fair,” Adrien told her, scratching his chin with his hand. He really needed to shave when he got home. “So, any idea as to who he could be then?” 

“Well, I think we should rethink a few leads we had in the past,” Ladybug began, biting down on her lower lip. She seemed sad. “Maybe I just hate the asshole, but I feel like our biggest lead was with Gabriel Agreste all those years ago.” 

Eyes widening, Adrien choked on his own spit at her words, taking a few deep breaths once his airway was no longer blocked. “Gabriel Agreste? Isn’t he that designer guy?” He tried his best to sound as casual as possible, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

There was absolutely _no_ way it was his father. 

“Do you remember how we entertained the idea a few years ago? He had a book on the miraculous’ that I ended up trying to return to Master Fu, who in the end had me return it to Monsieur Agreste before any trouble ensued.” 

So _that’s_ how the book ended up back with his father in the end. It all made sense now that Ladybug would’ve been the one to find it and return it, otherwise Adrien may have never went to school again. 

He wished he could thank her, without giving away his identity. 

“Maybe he’s just really interested in the miraculous’?” Adrien tried with a slight grimace, knowing that sounded stupid, yet desperately wanting to turn the lead on someone else. 

Because if his father truly _was_ Hawkmoth, that meant he had slept under the same roof as a serial murderer who terrorized Paris, and who had tried to kill him on multiple occasions. Granted, Hawkmoth didn’t know he was Adrien, yet if Hawkmoth was his father, then he had willingly put him in harmful situations. 

The Gorilla’s akumatization suddenly rang clear in his head, remembering when Gorizilla had caught Ladybug in his grasp after he jumped off the building. He hadn’t seen it when it actually happened, yet watching zoomed in footage from the Ladyblog had summed it all up for him. Ladybug had been in Gorizilla’s fist, struggling to break free to catch him, and Hawkmoth’s mask had appeared over Gorizilla’s face, and suddenly, Ladybug was free to swoop down and save him. 

Either one or two things happened that day. His father _was_ Hawkmoth and didn’t want to see him die, which Adrien wasn’t sure warmed his heart. Or, Hawkmoth hadn’t wanted to end up killing someone, as they hadn’t figured out whether the ladybugs had brought back a dead person yet. 

The pit of his stomach dropped as he stared at the surrounding Paris neighborhood, hands forming small closed fists. It felt like something was slotting into place, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders only to drop an even _heavier_ weight onto them. 

The two of them were silent for a bit, which Adrien appreciated as his mind wandered. The idea of Nathalie being Mayura and her sickness years ago before Hawkmoth had announced that he fixed the Peacock Miraculous popped into his head. It would make so much sense, as she was always over their house and seemed impartial to the way father treated him, even as he grew a little older. 

His father being Hawkmoth also meant that if it were the truth, the only family he had left—although, a shit excuse for family—would go to jail indefinitely. 

A dull ache settled in his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around his knees as he looked over at Ladybug, who was staring at him in concern. He smiled at her, the poised, perfect Agreste smile he had been taught for years, which seemed to visibly calm her nerves. 

“I think you might be right, Bug,” Adrien whispered, leaning his chin onto his folded arms, letting out a sigh. “If it is that asshole, then we’ll take him down.”

Without saying a word, Ladybug crawled over to Adrien and wrapped her arms around his body, hugging him tightly to her chest. 

Adrien let her, feeling his world crumbling down around him, her the only physical thing anchoring him. 

x

Sleep evaded him that night when he crawled into bed, as he felt unsafe in his own home. Hawkmoth being his father wasn’t set in stone exactly, it just made a lot of sense. 

He had always thought of his father as weird. Especially after his mother disappeared, his father had turned into a reclusive asshole who seemingly forgot how to be a parent. It was always work, work, _work_ and never was it about Adrien, even if he’d beg for it to be about him just for once. 

Once, Nino had described his father as emotionally abusive, even if his father had never told Adrien off specifically. There were things he did, things that a parent shouldn’t do, that Nino pointed out, which had Adrien reeling the first time he’d heard it.

Was his father an asshole? Yes. Could Adrien even describe him as a dick? Of course. Had Adrien ever thought of him as an abusive man—albeit emotionally and mentally? Not in a million years, no. 

After some talks with Nino, it made sense, though, as much as Adrien hated to admit it. A parent shouldn’t backhandedly degrade their child, in order to get their way, which his father was known for. No parent should lock their kid away in their home under the guise of ‘protection’, when in reality, it was always about control. 

Parents were supposed to allow their kids a sense of freedom, to grow into themselves and experience mistakes. Not express constant disappointment in them for following their own paths when it was harmless. 

Before his mother disappeared, Adrien’s father hadn’t been the most loving, yet Adrien assumed it was because of the way he was brought up. Thinking back on it, Adrien wondered if his father could truly love him, and whether it was his fault or not. 

_Dieu_ , he thought, swiping a hand over his face a bit roughly. _I feel like a fucking mess_ _and a ticking time bomb_. 

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, Adrien decided that, yes, it _was_ his father’s fault. He thought back on all of the times his father had purposely put him in harm’s way over the years, on the guise that he was Hawkmoth, and lost count. If he had a penny for every time it happened, including him as Chat Noir, Adrien wouldn’t need his father’s inheritance money to be rich. 

It saddened him to think about his father turned out, without his mother around to guide him. How he’d seemingly lost the ability to parent and be even a _decent_ person once she had disappeared. 

Nathalie would go to things that his father should’ve went to. Nathalie helped him with homework, signed off on tests and field trip notices. Nathalie, his father’s assistant, acted more like a parent than his own, and she didn’t act like his parent because she _wasn’t_. Adrien never expected her to, though even the slightest appreciation and love from Nathalie warmed his heart immensely. 

Swallowing thickly, he realized all of his lack of affection gravitated him towards Ladybug, in the long run.

Even The Gorilla acted more like a father than his own did at times, especially when Adrien was in _collége_ and was a little rowdier. He’d let Adrien sneak off and visit his friends, or drive the car around the block a few times to give Adrien more time. Plus, every year without fail, he’d gotten Adrien a gift for his birthday, and it was always something sentimental or thoughtful. 

Adrien’s father? The only gift he had gotten him since his mother's disappearance were pens, and the one year he’d given him a scarf. Was that a lie too? Was that gift even from his father in the first place? 

Rolling out of bed, Adrien tip-toed over to his wardrobe, sifting through his belongings to find the blue scarf in question. He let out a quiet _aha_ when he found it, flopping onto his bed and turning his nightstand lamp on. He looked for something— _anything_ to prove that the scarf was made by his father. 

The scarf seemed normal, nothing out of the ordinary from what he could tell. He turned it many different ways, eyebrows furrowing together, until his hand felt a slight nick in the fabric. “What the?” 

It was a small, secret compartment, one he had never seen or noticed before. Lifting the tiny flap, if he looked close enough, he could see a name written in cursive along the fabric. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs. 

_Marinette_ was scribbled very clearly into the fabric, which, _of course_ it was. 

Adrien’s not sure why he was surprised, or why his chest was tight all of a sudden, squeezing painfully. The fact that his father hadn’t gotten him an actual present in years—stole one of his friend’s gifts and said it was from him, wasn’t beneath his father in the slightest. However, at the time he’d received it, the gift had meant the world to him. 

To take that away from him, on such short notice, brought the situation at hand to light. He knew if he wasn’t ready to face the truth, he shouldn’t have pried. In his mind, it all but confirmed his theories. 

Father very rarely left the house, and on the rare occasion he did, it was for business endeavors that couldn’t be handled through his portable iPad. Even then, the longest his father had gone on a business trip, which Adrien could count on one hand since the disappearance of his mother, was a week. 

Funnily enough, there weren’t any akumas the week he was gone; Adrien remembered Ladybug commenting on how they’d gotten lucky during finals week their second year of _lycée_. 

None of their proof was concrete, not enough for them to go to the police and force an investigation. Adrien was aware of that, as was Ladybug. However, deep down, even though his purposeless hope of his father being innocent, Adrien knew. The click of realization when Ladybug had said his father’s name, how it sat in the pit of his stomach and nearly made him sick. The idea of losing another parent, even one as distant and manipulative as his father, clawed its way up his throat and burned, like a hand wrapped around his neck. It forced big, fat tears to fall down his face, as though he was experiencing the loss. 

The looming probability that he was going to have to face his father as Hawkmoth for a final battle was real and smacked him square in the face. Choking on a quiet sob, he allowed the presence of Plagg purring into his skin to help lull him into a sensible and manageable cry. 

If his father was truly Hawkmoth like he thought, he chose now as his moment to mourn until the battle was over and won. Ladybug needed him to be on top of his game, so if that meant turning off his emotions until further notice, so be it.

Adrien Agreste was a fighter—a warrior. He was a part of Paris’ famous duo that protected its citizens to the best of their abilities, even if it meant hurting themselves physically or mentally at the end of it all. 

If Hawkmoth wanted a battle to the end, an emotionless Chat Noir would be at the forefront of it. 

* * *

Adrien heard the whispers around school before anyone said anything to his face. 

In his defense, he didn’t care about what they thought of him. Half of them liked him for his looks, and the other half wanted to be friends with him because of his popularity and fame. Ninety-seven percent of them weren’t genuine in their advances, so they didn’t really matter to him.

That didn’t mean he was rude when they approached them, or that he didn’t give in when they asked him for things. No, he was nicer than he should be when that happened, a fake smile plastered on his face the entire time. 

It was a game to him, in those situations, to see if he could catch the guilt in their eyes when they realized he knew they were using him. He’d never admit it aloud to them, choosing to portray it through facial expressions and social cues, yet their slight falters in their smile and pause in speech made it obvious. 

He wondered if it made him like his father, to act like that. After a bit of thinking, he concluded that it didn’t, as Adrien did care for a lot of people and they were the ones that mattered, not the shallow and undeserving. 

What was worse about the whispers is that it clearly made it back to his friend group, as their worried eyes constantly glancing in his direction to see if he was alright were obvious. Evidently, a messy-looking Adrien Agreste meant that he must be falling apart, in their eyes. 

It wasn’t like they were wrong in their thoughts. It had only been three days since Ladybug’s quiet hypothesis about the identity about Hawkmoth. Three days since Adrien’s revelation of the monster his father had become, the monster he might have always been. The monster that he knew deep down was his father, even without any ounce of damning proof. 

Hawkmoth certainly wasn’t the devil, albeit he definitely rivaled the evangelical creature in his misguiding. 

All Adrien had decided to do was not dress in something name brand for once, and that was enough for his friends to notice something was off? He’d have to better in hiding his feelings, then. 

_Okay_ , maybe lying to himself wasn’t the best idea. Black was the color of mourning, a color that Adrien _never_ wore all together. He was dressed in a hoodie and sweats that hugged his more slender than usual frame, due to his father needing him to shed a few pounds for an upcoming runway walk he was forced into. Another tick to add to the ever-growing _father is an abusive piece of shit_ list. 

Adrien was already underweight from all of his growth spurts over the years, so the few pounds he had lost for the runway were noticeable. It was why he usually wore lighter colors, or at the very least a lighter-colored shirt, as to not accentuate what wasn’t there. 

When this was all over, he was going to drag himself to Marinette’s bakery and drown in their wonderful pastries. He wasn’t worried about gaining weight, not in the slightest, as running across the roofs of Paris kept him in pretty decent shape. 

“Hey dude,” Nino’s voice carried over Adrien’s thoughts, lulling him back to the present. “We’re going to go to the café for lunch today, you in?” 

At times like this, Adrien was so glad that Nino never approached him like a wounded animal. He couldn’t handle it if his best friend was like that, even if Adrien knew Nino was thinking it. “Sure, I have the walk coming up, though, so I have to watch what I eat.” 

“I don’t think cheating on your diet would hurt you for one meal, sunshine,” Alya said from behind him, coming up to languidly wrap an arm around Adrien’s shoulder. The redhead was wearing flat heels that allowed her to near his height. “C’mon then, it’s our treat.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Adrien hummed, leaning into Alya’s embrace slightly. “Your guys’ treat? I can pay for myself, you know. I am a rich bitch—” 

From behind Nino—were they standing in front of her locker the entire time? he wasn’t sure—Marinette appeared out of nowhere with narrowed eyes. “Shut up, Alya and I are treating you and Nino to lunch whether you two like it or not.” 

“You lot are going to pay for us for lunch? Hm, might have to add you into our relationship, Nette.” Nino leaned down slightly and pet Marinette on the top of the head with a laugh. 

Rolling her eyes, Marinette, the tiniest of the bunch by a few inches, kicked him in the leg gently. “Fuck off, Lahiffe. I’m not into polyamory or sharing, thank you very much.” Then, she looked over at Adrien with a grin. “Hey Agreste! You wanna elope?” 

“As long as you continue paying for my lunches, I’m set for life,” Adrien replied back smoothly, feeling a true smile make its way onto his face. He loved his friends more than words could express. 

Letting out a loud laugh, Marinette linked one of her arms through Adrien’s and tugged him away from Alya towards the door of their school. “Sayonara, bitches. I’ve got an Agreste putty in my hands. I have to leave while I’m ahead!” 

The surprised laugh that left Adrien’s own mouth was loud and unabashed, as Alya and Nino caught up to them, the four of them linked together by their arms. “Sorry, babe, you’re stuck with us,” Alya said, with a kiss to Marinette’s cheek.

“Absolutely disgusting,’ Chloé grumbled from the bottom of the steps, her eyebrows lifting up amusedly. “And where do we have the pleasure of going today, heathens?” 

“Who said you were invited?” Marinette shot to the blond girl with a blinding smile, the wind carrying her long hair into her face. 

Adrien tightened his grip on her and Nino to stop himself from brushing it back. 

The two girls stared at one another for a moment, before breaking out into a fit of laughter, Chloé wedging herself between him and Marinette. He didn’t miss the way Chloé slipped her hand into his for a moment and squeezed it, a comforting gesture. Then, as if nothing happened, her arm was locked with his without missing a beat.

He loved his friends so much. 

x

“Listen here, Dupain-Cheng, I will call daddy on you,” Chloé seethed loudly, slamming a hand down onto the table they were sitting in at the café. 

The whole of the café went quiet, waiters and waitresses alike pausing in their movements to watch the imminent quarrel between the two girls. An older couple to the left with their child reached down to cover their kids’ ears, sending a disapproving look their way. Across the café, a group of teenagers quickly whipped out their phones, whispering excitedly to themselves. 

Sitting up straight in her seat, Marinette stared Chloé down, blue eyes piercing in contrast to her midnight hair. If looks could kill, Chloé would be six feet under. She leaned forward, murderous eyes narrowing. “Try me, bitch,” she whispered, loud enough for the café to hear as it was quiet enough for a pin to drop and be heard. 

Their group fell into loud giggles, and the busy café fell into its groove once again, albeit slightly confused as they did so. The best part about Adrien’s group of friends was that they didn’t care where they were or who they were with, they were always themselves. 

That was how he knew he could always count on them in the grand scheme of things, even when things were tough.

His trust in Chloé was a newer addition, although it wasn’t a bad one. It had taken her a while to come around to the idea of being a good person, especially after she had nearly joined Hawkmoth’s—his _father’s_ —side all those years ago.

All it had taken was a gentle Marinette coming around, even when she hadn’t needed to, to hug the blond girl when her parents finally ended up divorcing in their second year of _lycée_. Even with all of the fighting, Chloé hadn’t thought they would actually go through with it. She’d felt so alone that Marinette had found her at her ends wit one day and decided enough was enough, Marinette would be there for her until she felt better and if Chloé still decided to hate her afterwards, that was okay. 

The blond girl had explained to Marinette that she didn’t want to trust someone as loving and caring as Marinette. She even admitted to having a bit of a crush on her all those years ago, ending in them finding out that Chloé was a closeted lesbian. It added to their ever-growing list of friends who identified with the community in shape or form. 

Nino and Marinette were both bisexual, while Alya was pansexual and didn’t care about gender. They already had Rose and Juleka who were together in their extended friend group, Nathaniel and Marc, and Kim who was questioning.

Adrien wasn’t sure what he identified as, as he’d never personally liked someone of the same gender, yet he wasn’t necessarily opposed to it. Sure, he found guys attractive, as he did with girls, though he wasn’t sure if he’d date them. 

It was the least of his worries at the moment, as Nino kicked his leg under the table, bringing his attention back to his friends. The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow at him, keeping his leg pressed into Adrien’s as he silently asked him whether he was okay or not. 

Nodding, Adrien sent him a small, yet genuine smile. In that moment, he was okay, and that was the truth. 

A relieved look made its way onto Nino’s face, and Adrien wanted to hug him, at how he didn’t push Adrien to talk about it. Nino knew that when Adrien was ready, Adrien would come to him. Adrien was lucky to have a friend like him—like _them_.

“So, sunshine,” Alya started, resting her chin on her hand as she turned to look at him. Adrien hummed, and she grinned, pleased. “Are you excited for the ice skating formal?” 

Every year, their _lycée_ had a formal dance for the _terminale_ students in the winter, and this year they had decided to hold it in _Le Grand Palais des Glaces_ , as per Chloé’s suggestion to her father. The formal had never been so grand, so all of the students were especially excited, trading outfit inspirations and exchanging ideas. 

Adrien was _extremely_ thrilled to see what Marinette would design, and how beautiful she’d look in it. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes were gravitated towards her, noticing her in a talk with Nino and Chloé, sipping her coffee in a mug too big for her hands. When he looked back at Alya, seconds later, his face flushed at the knowing smirk on her face. 

“Um,” was his response, as he scratched awkwardly at his neck. He took a second to compose himself, licking at his dry lips. “Yeah, of course. Father gave me the a-okay as long as I wear an Agreste original.”

“So, you’re going to up show all of us, then?” Nino butted into the conversation with a small pout, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Agreste would outshine us if he came dressed as a garbage can,” Chloé uttered with a laugh, hand waving about wildly. “The boy is too pretty, so unless he covers his face, we’re all goners.” 

Shaking his head petulantly, Adrien mumbled, “ _Nooooo_ , stop it, you’re all beautiful humans and I lo—” 

“Accept the compliment,” both Chloé and Nino said at the same time, the former of the two reaching forward to flick Adrien in the forehead. 

Shifting his attention to Marinette, who was staring at the four of them with a smile on her face, Adrien leaned in and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “Mari, help, they’re _bullying_ me.” 

“Bullying you? Adrien, all they did was call you pretty,” she replied with a breathy laugh, peering down at him with a soft smile. 

“Exactly,” he grumbled, eyes slipping shut as he breathed in her vanilla and cookie scent. His head swam with the warmth he felt at that moment, hand gripping the arm of his chair. “I am not _pretty_. Call me hot, call me handsome, sure, but pretty? No w—” 

The words were ripped from his mouth when Marinette’s hand fell into his hair, carding through the gentle locks. He had forgone using any hair product today, allowing it free reign to do as it pleased. He was sure it was going to look ridiculous when she was done, yet couldn’t find it in himself to care. He even went as far to knock his head into her hand when she stopped momentarily to reply to their friends about something, his head too cloudy to pay attention.

Without noticing, Adrien’s body was responding to Marinette’s hand, his chest vibrating ever so slightly. It wasn’t until she froze that he became aware of the fact that he was _fucking purring_ , although only enough for her to feel it. He was going to kill Plagg when he got home. 

Marinette, more than anyone, was keeping him grounded as everything else fell apart around him. If he didn’t have her, he might have gone insane at this point. Even if he couldn’t tell her what was going on, her presence was enough for now.

“Is it better if I’m the one that thinks you’re pretty?” Marinette whispered into his ear, her nails scratching his head, right behind his ear. Adrien’s teeth blocked the purr from actually leaving his lips, his head lolling slightly. 

What the _fuck_ was going on with him, and why couldn’t he control himself? His head felt heavy and his thoughts were scattered—everything felt cloudy and weird; he needed Plagg. 

“Yeah,” Adrien breathed out, lifting his head up to stare up at Marinette with slightly wide eyes, cheeks pink. “Yeah, of course, Mari. You know that, don’t you? Just you, it’s always been you—” 

_Oh, mon dieu, no_. Adrien licked his lips, using all of his strength to press his face into her shoulder again. He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring his brain telling him to hide his face in her neck, to let his lips drag across the point where her shoulder and neck met—

Gasping, Adrien all but ripped himself away from her, looking like a rabid animal as he shot up from his seat. His chair fell over in his hastiness, and he avoided all of their concerned stares. He hadn’t realized the others were watching them the whole time, completely forgetting they were in public. 

Marinette’s small hand wrapped firmly around his wrist, a weak attempt to get him to stay. Her voice was frantic—almost. “Adrien, please—”

“I’ve gotta go,” Adrien rasped out, arm jerking out of her grasp as if it’d been burned. He ignored the hurt expression on her face, the confused expressions on the rest of their groups’ faces, and all but ran out of the café. 

As soon as he was away from them, Adrien scrambled for his phone in his pocket and pressed it against his ear, grumbling out, “Plagg, what was happening back there? Why couldn’t I control myself around her?” 

“The miraculous’ have side effects. The more upset you are, the less control you have over them. You’re usually very level-headed, but with everything going on lately…” Plagg trailed off, letting out a sigh as he hid against Adrien’s chest. “It’s understandable why it came out when it did. Plus, you trust her, so of course it would happen with her.” 

“I essentially told her I love her, Plagg! What do I _do_? I don’t have time to worry about this right now, not with... not if Father is—”

Plagg scratched at Adrien’s chest, calming him down for a second, before he asked, “Do you love her?” 

Adrien’s hand gripped the phone tighter in his hand, slowly down his brisk jog down to a walk. “Love? I don’t know. I know I care about her a lot. I know what I feel for her isn’t just friendly. I don’t know if it’s love, though.” 

“That’s okay,” Plagg reassured him gently, purring against his chest, before speaking again, “It doesn’t have to be love, not so soon at least. I can tell you care for her, though. A lot more than you let on.” 

“I do care for her. So much. It’s insane how quickly she went from being one of my best friends, to me falling for her.” 

Letting out a groan, Plagg poked one of his claws into Adrien’s chest. “Don’t go into detail about it, now. I don’t want to throw up all of my yummy camembert. It won’t come out of your clothes if I do.” 

“Please don’t,” Adrien begged, slightly grossed out—albeit, he was smiling through his panic.

“You should tell her how you feel, kid,” his kwami said.

Widening his eyes, Adrien quickly shook his head, laughing breathily. “Are you crazy? She doesn’t like me, not Adrien at least. She kissed Chat Noir for _dieu_ sake, not Adrien!” 

“Technically Chat Noir kissed her—” 

“That’s beside the point,” Adrien exclaimed, his free hand flapping around wildly as he stopped mid-walk. He ignored the weirded-out look of passersby, breathing deeply to slow his heart rate down. “Chat Noir and I are nothing alike. Chat Noir is the cool version of me! Adrien’s just some fucking _dork_ —”

Out of nowhere, Plagg hissed loudly, causing Adrien to jump in place and let out a garbled scream. Quickly, he turned his back to the concerned passersby and frowned, one of his hands balling into fists. “What the hell, Plagg?”

“Stop talking down on yourself! You’re one of the best chosen’s I’ve had since _dieu_ knows how long! You _are_ Chat Noir! Fu never would’ve chosen you if you weren’t the embodiment of your miraculous.” 

“Maybe Master Fu was wrong. He barely knew me anyways!” 

“Yes, Master Fu barely knew you, but _I_ know you Adrien. So do your friends that think you’re pretty damn cool. So, _listen_ to me when I say that you and Chat Noir are the same person, whether you have the mask on or not,” Plagg’s voice was venomous as he spoke, as if he dared Adrien to disagree with him in that moment. 

Adrien couldn’t find it in his heart to disagree, not when Plagg was so adamant about it. For once, Adrien believed the words that came out of his kwami’s mouth. “Thanks, Plagg,” he whispered, blinking back the tears that had formed.

Settling back against Adrien’s chest, Plagg resumed his previous purring, warming Adrien’s heart. “Don’t get used to it,” the kwami grumbled quietly in a teasing voice. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 


	3. adrien's hit rock bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW, i know... i know i said that 3 was going to be the last chapter... but then i got to writing and again it just.... spiraled. I figured that focusing a large part of this chapter on lb and chat outing hawkmoth would make it so the next chapter can be about the healing process and we can get to the true comfort!
> 
> as always, this is hastily beta'd (if at all, thank you microsoft word!) please let me know how you feel :)

ADRIEN

Quietness filled the enormous mansion Adrien lived in, teasing him in a sense. His father and Nathalie were in Tokyo on a business trip, which left Adrien alone to do as he pleased — or, as much as he could with the Gorilla looming about. The Gorilla had his own quarters to lounge around in when the other two adults were away, so unless Adrien needed to be driven anywhere, Gorilla usually let him roam free. 

They’d come to an understanding long ago, that the Gorilla provided him some freedom after his father had turned rampant from his mother’s disappearance. As time stretched on and Adrien grew older, the hold his father had on him loosened ever so slightly, though anytime he tried to venture outwards, the reigns harshly tugged him in.

Adrien wondered what normal truly consisted of, truly wondered if he’d ever get to experience it. 

Sometimes, he swore he was greedy. There were plenty of people out there that had nothing and were happy with their lives. Adrien had it in all in the physical sense, from money, materialistic items, the fame, yet he felt as though he were spiraling. Slowly but surely, the glue that held him together was ripping at the seams. 

From his mother being gone, to his father possibly being Hawkmoth, to the loneliness settling in the pit of his heart—it was all so much. The fire that previously raged inside of him, that fought for his freedom and happiness was simmering. 

The world was becoming gray, filtering into a cold, dreary nothingness that he couldn’t stop. He could only blame it on winter for so long, before it took its toll. The emptiness that was drawing him under, that was seeping into his skin and embodying him, was scaring him. 

The only light in the foreseeable future was the friends he had around him. Alya, Nino, Chloé, Ladybug, and especially Marinette, who was special in her own rights. He was trying his absolute hardest not to rely on her as much as he felt he needed to—their friendship, budding relationship, whatever it ended up being, could not become toxic. He wouldn’t allow it; he’d seen too many shows where people going through difficult times dragged their partners under. 

Marinette was not the person that deserved that, even if his heart ached when he wasn’t around her. She was the embodiment of sunshine, of flowers budding in the earliest months of spring. She reminded him of twinkling lights on a Christmas tree, of unashamed laughter in sticky situations. 

No, he wouldn’t do that to her. He leaned on her enough, as both Chat and Adrien at this point, and would remain neutral until after the situation was remedied, no matter the outcome. That included a fix in his mental health, too. 

Short, quiet breaths bounced off the walls of the mansion as Adrien tip-toed through, knowing that what he was about to do was risky. He had to know whether their suspicions were true, whether Ladybug was correct in her hypothesis. 

Adrien had to find out whether his father was Hawkmoth. If he did, him and Ladybug could formulate a plan of action to get the Butterfly miraculous out of his hands. Enough was enough, and Adrien Agreste was _done_.

“I think it’s time we do some investigating, Plagg,” Adrien mumbled to his kwami, who was wordlessly floating by his side as they walked down the long corridor to the security room. 

One of Adrien’s hands lifted to run along the curvature of the wall, sighing quietly once they reached the room in question. “I’m going to need you to phase through and unlock the door for me. I’ll give you cheese for it later, okay?”

“I would’ve done it regardless, but it’s nice to know you care about me,” Plagg sniffed, doing as he was told. 

An ugly snort left Adrien’s lips as the door in front of him whizzed open, Adrien rubbing a tired hand over his face. “I don’t know if I’m ready to face this,” he started, chewing on his lower lip. “But I know it’s now or never. As long as I have you, Plagg, I think I’ll be alright.” 

Plagg rushed forward and nuzzled into Adrien’s cheek, an affection that was rare for his kwami, yet was appreciated, nonetheless. “You’ll always have me, _sir dumbass_.” 

“Shut up,” Adrien murmured fondly, a hand reaching up to scratch at the top of Plagg’s head. “Don’t make me get all teary-eyed on you. I know you hate that.” 

“Hate it? More like I don’t want to hear it because then _I’ll_ get teary-eyed.” 

Whilst they were talking, Adrien took the opportunity to push his way into the security room, the distraction easing his nerves. A grin forced its way onto his face. “The god of destruction has emotions? For something other than expensive and smelly cheese? Wow, who would’ve known such a thing?” 

“No one other than my chosen’s, of course,” Plagg said, a bit disdainfully in Adrien’s opinion. 

Shutting the door and locking it to ensure privacy, Adrien replied, “Well, it’s an honor then.” Then, he turned to the objective at hand, licking at his dry lips. “Do you have any idea how to work this thing?” 

The laugh that left Plagg’s lips was his wordless answer, so Adrien stepped forward to the plethora of monitors and started fussing with a few buttons, until the screen in front of him lit up. 

“Ah-ha,” Adrien whispered quietly, plopping down in the office chair in front of him. His hands started typing furiously on the keyboard, all of his computer science class knowledge and Max’s teachings coming back to him. It took a bit of navigating, yet before he knew it, he was where the footage was kept. 

“You humans are so complicated, I don’t understand any of this,” Plagg whined from where he was perched on Adrien’s shoulder, his constant humming keeping Adrien calm. 

Constant taps of the keyboard were almost rhythmic to Adrien as he hummed back unintentionally. “Yeah, all of this is a bit redundant. I understand having security cameras outside of your home. But _inside_? It’s creepy and weird. I’ve always hated it. Thankfully, Father keeps the cameras outside of our bedrooms and bathrooms.” 

“A few less rooms to search,” Plagg supplied with a small smile, curling closer to Adrien. 

“You’re right,” Adrien agreed, sending back a timid smile as he began searching through the footage. After thirty minutes of sifting through the main room, the kitchen, all of the hallways, and their dining room, Adrien finally settled on his father’s office. “He spends so much time here, I don’t know why I didn’t look here first.” 

“You probably didn’t want to check there because you knew that if you were going to find anything, it’d be there.” 

With a sigh, Adrien grabbed his phone out of his back pocket and turned it on the camera, hitting record and handing the phone to Plagg. “Just in case,” Adrien told him. 

Running a hand through his hair, Adrien ended up shrugging as he finally clicked on the room labeled _The Office_ , hit a button to speed up the footage, and watched for anything unusual. 

If it weren’t for Plagg, three minutes in, he wouldn’t have noticed it. “Go back, kid! Rewind until I tell you to stop.” 

Adrien listened to him, rewinding until Plagg told him to stop, and played the footage a lot slower. He saw his father walk up to his mother’s painting, Nathalie in tow, and press a few fingers into the painting. “What the fuck?” 

Pausing the video, Adrien used the rotation to twist the camera angle until his father’s back was parallel with the camera—thanked his lucky stars that his father invested in 360 cameras—and allowed Plagg to zoom in to the frozen image on the screen. Once Adrien was sure that Plagg had it on camera for more than a few seconds, Adrien played the video and watched as his father sunk into the ground on a tiny platform, completely disappearing. 

Adrien’s head dropped as his hands sunk into his hair, his fingers gripping tightly at the soft strands. Plagg quickly stopped recording and moved to purr into Adrien’s hair, trying to calm his chosen down to the best of his ability. “This doesn’t mean anything yet,” Plagg tried, scratching at Adrien’s head gently. 

“Doesn’t mean anything yet means everything at the same time,” Adrien muttered tightly, his throat constricting slightly. “I feel like that’s the most concrete evidence we have so far, Plagg.” 

“What do you want to do, then? We could go exploring, see if it leads anywhere, yet I don’t know about you going in there alone. Maybe you should tell Ladybug what you found and have her come with you.”

Unable to stop himself, Adrien removed his hands from his hair and clenched them into fists, nails digging into his skin slightly. “I don’t want her pity if I break down. I don’t know if I can handle that. I might accidentally reveal myself.” 

“Maybe a reveal is what you need. You to her, at least. I think a full reveal would be too much for you,” Plagg ended up suggesting, tilting his head to the side. 

“You’re probably right,” Adrien replied, letting out a soft sigh, and logged out of the computer. “That’s enough evidence for now. Time to head to my room and call her on our emergency burner. This is important and can’t wait.” 

The walk from the security room to Adrien’s was fairly short, Adrien having made sure everything was back to normal prior to leaving. As soon as Adrien made it into his room, he dove for the burner phone him and Ladybug had for emergencies only and called her, pacing around in his all too large room. 

It wasn’t concrete evidence, though it was more than enough for them to act on it. He could have Plagg go exploring on his own, to see if anything was amiss. He knew his kwami wouldn’t be able to hide his expression if he found anything, and Plagg was right, he should really wait for Ladybug just in case. 

Ladybug needed to know who Chat Noir truly was, that his father might be Hawkmoth, in case of anything. Today would be the day he would reveal himself to his partner. She was the Guardian after all, had been since Master Fu had relinquished the role when the miraculous’ owners were revealed. Adrien knew she wouldn’t take Plagg away from him, not now. 

In case of any liabilities, in case Adrien ended up breaking down or for some reason couldn’t do what she needed him to, he needed her to know why. As much as he wanted to put faith in himself, faith that he hoped would amplify times ten as Chat Noir, she had to be aware. 

“Chat? Is everything okay? You never call me out of the blue,” her voice rang out quietly, a bit of worry evident in it. 

_Oh, if only you knew, Bug_ , he thought. “We have a bit of a situation, Bug. I might have found some evidence that Gabriel Agreste can be considered a suspect. I didn’t want to go in alone, though. Plus, I have something important to tell you afterwards. Can you meet me at the Agreste mansion in ten minutes? I’ll leave his office window open for you.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to search through his mansion with him home, Chat? And what about Adrien? If he sees us—”

“I don’t think Adrien will be a problem. Mr. Agreste and his assistant are traveling abroad for business right now, so we’re okay. Just get here soon, Bug. It’s important,” Adrien told her, then hung up, rubbing a hand over his face. 

It was now or never, evidently. Adrien chose now. 

x

It took less than ten minutes—Adrien was transformed and waiting beside the large windows in his father’s office. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth, Plagg’s presence gone as he was in the ring. 

Adrien wanted to scream, to kick something, to break everything in the room. He calmed himself for Ladybug’s sake. Once he showed her the footage and was sure that his father was in fact Hawkmoth, he’d reveal himself to her, for both their sakes. 

_Easier said than done_ , he thought to himself, rubbing a hand over his face in slight exasperation. Too many emotions milling about in his head, tugging and pulling at the strings of his heart. 

Mother always said that he was an emotional child, her words coming back to bite him in the butt. 

The tell-tale noise of Ladybug quietly landing behind him, yet loud enough for his cat ears to pick up on, brought him back to the present. Emotionally preparing himself to the best of his ability, he schooled the expression on his face and turned around, waving a hand at her. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Bug,” Adrien said, a bit too tightly to be natural. 

Ladybug looked slightly winded, her hip cocked to the side with her hand on it as she greeted him, “Hey there _mon_ _chaton_ , what’s up? You said you had evidence?” 

For some reason, she looked a little sad as she talked to him, as though she was worried about something. Adrien had no idea what it could be, so he ignored it for the moment. 

“Yeah, let me get it up on my phone. One second,” he told her a bit quietly, turning so his back was facing her as he pulled up the video. His phone case would give him away immediately, so he ripped it off and quickly flung it to the opposite side of the room and out of view. “There, I found it. Let’s get this show on the road.” 

“You okay, Chat? You seem a little out of it,” Ladybug fretted him, reaching her hands up to grab his shoulders and inspect him. “You’re not hurt, right?” 

_Not physically,_ he thought with a scowl on his face, albeit the flush to his cheeks at her worrying was involuntarily. “I’m fine, milady. The sooner we catch Hawkmoth, the better.” 

Ladybug pursed her lips together and stared at him for a moment. She squeezed his shoulders, nodding to him with a small, pained smile. “Right,” she affirmed, lowering her hands. 

Adrien would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t miss the feel of her gloved hands on his suit. Silently, he lifted his hand and held the video so the two of them could watch, and pressed play. 

The second time around, he wasn’t as phased watching his father descent into the floor after pressing buttons on his mother’s painting. The physical _pang_ in his chest was lesser, the imminent panic attack soothed by Ladybug’s presence. He thanked _dieu_ that Plagg called him kid instead of Adrien in that moment, as he might’ve had a heart attack if he’d revealed himself to her that way. _Haha, yeah, Adrien Agreste who is me is also Chat Noir and we’re searching my house to see whether my father is a terrorist._ He doubted that would go over well with her.

“So all we do is press those buttons on the painting and it’ll bring us to wherever Gabriel Agreste went in that video?” 

“Yeah, or at least I hope so.” He searched around the room to try and find a hiding spot for his phone, noting a plant sat in the corner of the room. “I’m going to leave my phone here and use my baton to record anything if needed. We can always transfer everything to a hard drive later on.” 

Then, he tapped a few buttons on his baton and nodding once when it started to record. He shoved the device facing into its usual loop slightly angled upward, facing away from his body.

A quiet laugh spewed from Ladybug’s lips as Adrien hid his phone, along with his case, in the potted plant. “Look at you _Mr. Smarty Pants_ ,” she mused, head tilting to the side. “Speaking of which, how _did_ you get into their security room?”

“All of your questions will be answered in due time, Bug,” was Adrien’s ominous response, a slight smirk lifting onto his face. He grabbed her wrist gently and tugged her over to the painting, spotting the buttons his father pressed easily on the painting. He copied Hawkmoth’s movements and quickly wrapped his arms around Ladybug’s body so the two of them were standing over where the platform would be. Their bodies were pressed flush together so they’d both fit. 

Ladybug gasped when the platform began lowering into the ground, the two of them barely fitting through the passageway leading them downward. There wasn’t any light once the hold above them closed, and Adrien could hear Ladybug’s heavy breathing as they descended. He tightened his grip around her and mumbled, “We’re okay, Bug.” 

“I don’t really like tight spaces,” she admitted, leaning forward to press her face into Adrien’s chest. 

“S’alright, we’ll be out of here soon,” Adrien reassured her gently, his own eyes shut as he rubbed small circles into the middle of her back. 

Seconds later, the platform clicked into the floor and stopped, letting them know they had arrived. Adrien opened his eyes to peer around, squinting in the low light even with his night vision. “Where in the heck are we?” 

“What is it?” Ladybug asked, gently removing herself from Adrien’s grasp so she could look around and investigate. “Are we in a long hallway that leads to _nothing_?” 

The dark hallway didn’t lead to nothing, Adrien was sure, as he could see a tube hidden quite nicely up ahead with his night vision. “Bug, hold onto my arm so you don’t hurt yourself,” Adrien advised her as he held his arm out in her direction, feeling his nerves dissipate once she complied. “I’m going to walk us forward now. It’s just a straight path, okay?” 

After she had given him the okay, the two of them began their slow walk down the hallway. It wasn’t that large, not by any means, yet it was quite tall considering they were underground. 

Before they ended up too far from where they began, Adrien paused and craned his neck backwards so he could see their starting point. On the ground, there was a circle mapping out the platform and a button on the wall next to it. Without his night vision, he wouldn’t have noticed it, and they might’ve ended up stuck down there until they miraculously found it. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours—it had only been minutes, him and Ladybug made it to the other side of the hallway. The tube was a bit larger than the previous one they had just gone down, so they’d fit more comfortably in it together. Adrien noticed the keypad on the side and immediately knew what the code would be. 

His mother’s birthday, as it was all of their card pins, the pin code to get into his father’s office at the actual Agreste building in the city. It was even the passcode to his father’s phone, something he had found out from trial and error once a few years back. 

Adrien wanted to laugh when the tube popped open at how dumb his father was for keeping the same pins for everything, albeit his father probably hadn’t assumed that Chat Noir was living under his own roof. 

“ _Chaton_? How did you know—”

“No questions, Ladybug. Not now. I’ll explain it all later,” Adrien interrupted, gently dragging her into the lit-up tube, eyebrows furrowing together at there being two options for where they could go. “Why are there two options?”

Ladybug shrugged her shoulders, reaching forward and pressing the _up_ button, the two of them jolting as the tube rushed upward. It seemed as it went on forever, when in reality, it couldn’t have lasted more than ten seconds. 

Once the tube started to slow down, Adrien squeezed his eyes shut as tight as possible. The tube imminently stopped, the outer part of it sinking into the ground. He was not prepared for what was about to happen, and needed a moment to collect himself. 

_Deep breaths, Adrien_ , he thought to himself. _You can do this_. 

His eyes flew open at Ladybug’s piercing scream, ready to defend her from whatever was in the room, albeit his mouth fell open instead. White glowing butterflies were fluttering around them, wings flapping beautifully as if they were basking in sunlight. The walls were dark, and out of nowhere, the wall in front of them began opening like the shutter of a camera. 

The two of them jumped, Ladybug letting out another yell, as a gigantic circular window with a very small opening in the center appeared. The rest of it was made with glass, and the outline of the window ironically formed what looked to be a butterfly. 

Weirdly enough, none of the butterflies flew out of the small hole, as if they were waiting to be commanded to do so. The pit that had been settled in Adrien’s chest and stomach for the last hour and a half doubled, as his worst fears were confirmed. 

His father was Hawkmoth, and he had been putting his own son and the rest of Paris in danger for a little under four years. All of the abandonment issues Adrien had, the fear of being loved, the loneliness embedded deep in his heart, were because his father wanted to terrorize and hurt civilians. Hurt people Adrien cared so much about. 

Father had hurt people close to him, hurt the ones he claimed to love, and for what? To lose them in the process? Adrien knew he couldn’t ever look at him again without feeling complete disgust. 

To be frank, it hurt. It hurt worse than anything he could’ve imagined. The one family member he had left, the only person who could truly understand what it felt like to lose his mother, was a terrorist. Father was going to go to jail for the rest of his life and Adrien hoped he’d rot in it.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien pushed all of the thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing on the task at hand. He could have an emotional breakdown later, once he was in the privacy of his own room. 

For now? Him and Ladybug had work to do. 

Without thinking, Adrien reached out to touch one of the pretty butterflies, grunting when Ladybug smacked his arm away and tapped a small button on the floor next to them. The tube reappeared up and around them, and they were descending slowly, much to Adrien’s bemusement. 

“Aren’t you curious, milady?” Adrien couldn’t help but ask, licking at his lips while turning to her. “They didn’t look evil, so I just wanted to touch—”

“You were going to touch one without judging the risks! You have no idea what could’ve happened, Chat! What if they could still akumatize you somehow?” The look on Ladybug’s face was one of pure bewilderment, her eyes wide and clenched hands shaking. 

Frowning, Adrien reached a hand forward to gently take her hand and squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he told her quietly, albeit full of meaning. “I won’t do it again.” 

Ladybug stared at him hard, judging him with her eyes. When she saw what she seemed to be looking for, she nodded at him. “Good, kitty. I’m going to need you focused for the rest of this,” she said, then she pressed the down arrow, and they were going deeper. 

“Where do you think this leads?” It was Ladybug who wondered it aloud, albeit she voiced Adrien’s own thoughts. If the lair was up in the roof, what else would be so necessary that his father kept it hidden so far underground?

The tube slowed to a stop, this time settling inside a slightly larger one once it clicked into the ground. It opened up, and Adrien first noticed the large window with the same butterfly engraving at the back of the room. The room was huge, the ceilings were taller than Adrien had ever seen, stretching for what seemed like miles. On either side of the room were water patches, and on the other end, Adrien could make out a beautiful garden, livelier than the one in their own backyard. 

There was another tube of some kind perched on an angle, a glass encasing on the top of it, albeit Adrien couldn’t make out what was inside. It looked as though to be human-shaped, which kept Adrien frozen in place. Was there a dead body in there? 

“Ladybug, I don’t know if I can go over there,” Adrien told her truthfully, harshly gulping as his hands shook. 

Ladybug used the hand she was holding to turn Adrien towards her, one of her fingers tapping the tip of his nose. “We’ll go over there together, okay? If it gets to be too much, we’ll leave.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” At Adrien’s words, him and Ladybug started the journey down the narrow bridge splitting the water patches in two. The over the top garden looked welcoming from afar, light from the window panning over it angelically. When they were close enough to view the—was that a coffin with glass paneling?

Adrien froze mid-step, his hand going slack in Ladybug’s. His mind went blank as though his brain stopped working, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skin. He couldn’t hear Ladybug frantically calling his name, tugging on his wrist, hands pressing into his cheeks to try and coax him back into reality. He couldn’t feel anything, his chest tightening harshly, knocking the breath out of him.

Emilie Agreste was laid out in the glass-top coffin, albeit beautifully with her hands rested atop one another’s. His mother, who was presumed missing for _five_ years, who had disappeared without a trace, was hidden deep underneath his home right under his nose.

Emilie Agreste was laid out in the glass-top coffin and she wasn’t breathing.

The world collapsed underneath him, his legs giving out as he dropped roughly to the ground, pain shooting up his back. Faintly, he recognized Ladybug kneeling in front of him, her knocking her forehead into his as she spoke. He tried to read her lips, yet couldn’t as his ears were ringing loudly.

“L-Ladybug… I-I... I can’t…” Adrien wheezed out painfully, hands coming up to grip her shoulders tightly, the back of his throat burning as his lungs raced for air.

The idea of his mother being dead was never thought of when she initially disappeared. He assumed that she had left on her own accord, or perhaps had been kidnapped for some absurd reason, but dead? No, he couldn’t ever think that, not about his mother.

They had held a funeral for her, when she hadn’t shown up after years of being gone. He hadn’t believed it since there was no body, no confirmation that she _was_ dead. It was easier for his mother’s twin Amelie to move on afterwards, to let go of all the pain she harbored for her missing sister and instead mourn for what she had lost.

Adrien wasn’t the type to move on, not without proof. He would hope for his mother’s return until he was shown square in the face that she was dead.

_Fuck, he couldn’t breathe._

All he felt were Ladybug’s gentle hands on his back, soothing him to the best of her ability. He didn’t notice them make their way into the tube, traverse upward, shuffle through the hallway and somehow find the button without his help. He didn’t notice her turn the recording on his baton off and save it. He didn’t notice them make their way back into his father’s office, Ladybug grabbing his belongings and tugging him out of the room. He didn’t notice her take his hands and walk them towards his room, her hums lulling the severe anxiety coursing through his veins. He didn’t notice her pushing him into his bathroom, where she helped him kneel in front of the toilet so he could empty his stomach.

He didn’t notice Ladybug’s silent tears streaming down her face, the way her shoulders were hunched in with her own hurt—hurt for whom perhaps?

Ladybug’s hands carded through his sweaty locks, as she grabbed a towel and handed it to him so Adrien could wipe his mouth. She then walked out of the bathroom, headed towards his mini-fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water. In seconds, she had it opened and let him clean his mouth out. 

“Plagg,” Adrien rasped out with a hoarse voice, through shaky breaths. He needed his kwami right now too. “Claws in.”

The detransformation light engulfed him for a second, Adrien allowing himself to bask in it. As soon as Plagg was out of the ring, he was curled up against Adrien’s shoulder, purring loudly into his bare collarbone.

“I’m so sorry, L-Ladybug. You n-needed to know, _fuck_ , I c-can’t breathe,” Adrien gasped out, hand clawing towards the middle of his chest as if it would open his lungs.

Ladybug was staring at him with wide, emotional eyes, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something. “Adrien,” she whispered worriedly, her eyebrows tilting together sadly, before she threw caution to the wind and threw her arms around his neck.

Without knowing it, it was what Adrien needed at the moment. Close physical contact to calm himself down, to remind him that there was somebody out there that cared about him, that _loved_ him. His own arms wrapped tightly around her body, his face pressing into the spandex of her suit as he sobbed harshly, big fat tears streaming down his face.

“My mother, Bug, that was my _mother_ in there,” Adrien whimpered, a hiccup leaving his lips as he bathed in their warmth, both Plagg and Ladybug soothing him and keeping him stable.

“Sh, _chaton_ , you’re okay, c’mere,” Ladybug said to him, her hand guiding his head towards her neck, where he could breathe in her scent. She pushed his head up so his nose brushed the bare skin right under her ear, grounding him. “Slow deep breaths for me, okay?” 

Complying with her words was harder than anything Adrien had ever done before. He had sat through years of piano, fencing, modeling, learning his languages—he was up to _five_ now as his English was now considered decent. He did absolutely whatever he could to make his father happy, to be a normal teenager and go to school, to make friends. Sat through hours of loneliness before the miraculous was dropped into his fate at the age of thirteen, not long after his mother’s disappearance. 

On top of it all, now he was roaming the streets clad in a skin-tight leather suit that did wonders for his body, yet showed off how he was overworking it for how little he was consuming. He could thank his nutritionist for that, though his nutritionist _was_ unaware of certain rendezvous he got to when unsupervised.

His face hidden in her neck was doing wonders for his anxiety. She smelled so lovely and was rubbing her hands along the back of his neck, up into the hair curling at the nape. Whispering quiet instructions to help slow his rapid breathing, to calm him to the best of her abilities through her own tears. 

Adrien valued her friendship _so_ much, and valued her as a person even more. 

It all made sense the more he thought about it, the reason his father had been terrorizing Paris for so long. Father kept Adrien’s mother locked away while he was on the hunt for their miraculous’ which could overturn her death.

Although he understood— _looser than a goose_ as the Americans might say—why his father was doing it, it didn’t mean he condoned it in any way shape or form. Yes, he loved his mother with everything in him, albeit he would never go to the lengths his father had gone to. His mother wouldn’t have wanted that.

The likelihood that speaking to his father about what they had found would change his mind wasn’t likely. Adrien wouldn’t even suggest that route to Ladybug, knowing that his father would go to the death if he needed to for Emilie. Father was selfish, very much so, in that the miraculous wish would take a life for a life, as it was about balance and harmony. More so, it would probably take someone close to his father, as a punishment for using the miraculous for evil.

Adrien wasn’t sure whether the idea hurt more or less that he most likely wouldn’t be that person.

“I fucking hate him so much, Ladybug. You don’t understand,” Adrien choked out angrily, arms tightening around her petite body like a lifeline.

Did he truly hate him? Adrien wasn’t sure, albeit it was what he was feeling at the moment. Father did what was necessary to keep Adrien alive, yet never acted as a parental figure. Especially with his mother gone, his father shoved any and all parental tasks onto his staff and focused on his work.

Maybe loathed was a better word for what he was feeling, right now at the very least. Love was out of the question and hate seemed to harsh, weirdly enough. 

“I know, _chaton_ , you have every right to,” Ladybug assured him, her hands sliding up to cup his cheeks and force Adrien to face her. “Listen to me right now, Adrien Agreste. You are a wonderful human and you do _not_ deserve what is happening to you. You are my partner, my best friend, and I love you _so_ much. I need you to know that.”

Adrien’s lower lip trembled as she spoke to him, the words resonating deep within as Plagg whispered _nice job pigtails_ from where he was resting on Adrien’s collarbone. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed that right now.” 

“We’ll figure this out together. You and me against the world,” Ladybug said, her fingers gently swiping away his tears. 

Breathing deeply, Adrien lifted his hands and placed them atop of hers for stability. He nodded once, repeating her words shakily. “You and me, Bug.”

* * *

Adrien made the painstaking mistake of promising Ladybug that he would go to school on the day of Father’s arrest.

It saddened him a bit, as Adrien felt he needed the closure to move on, albeit Officer Raincomprix said that they would make sure Adrien was sent off to school that day. In order for the plan to work, following routines as normal until the arrest was made was _key._ Normalcy would ensure his father’s unawareness and a smooth arrest. 

Whether Adrien wanted it to or not, the news would hit the tabloids while he was in school. He wished he could warn the Gorilla in advance, to be there a little early when the bell let them out. 

He would be known as Hawkmoth’s unaware son for the rest of his life. He would be known as the offspring of a man who committed domestic terror attacks against his country for his dead wife. His father would be known as the man who was the indirect cause—or direct, depending on how the law saw it—of deaths of a handful of civilians over the years. 

The small amount of privacy Adrien had left would vanish over the next few months, with reporters, modeling jobs that were scheduled in advance. The court case, in which he’d have to appear against his father as _both_ Adrien and Chat Noir. School, as the idea of being stuck at home sounded absolutely _horrible_ knowing what lied inside. 

Perhaps adding therapy to that long list of must-dos might do him wonders. 

“Up and at ‘em, Plagg,” Adrien grumbled from where his face was shoved into his pillow, slowly stretching his limbs out as he sat up in bed. His kwami was still asleep in the corner of his room, so Adrien let him until it was time to leave.

Slowly, he trudged over to his closet and changed, throwing on a white Agreste t-shirt, black Balmain skinny jeans, a forest green Gucci bomber jacket, and white Gucci shoes with the logo emblem on it. Father had an affinity for luxury brands, so the cheapest item Adrien owned in his closet was probably his most cherished, if he thought about it. The scarf Marinette made him all those years ago. 

He grabbed the scarf and held the soft material to his face, soaking in how warm in made him feel for a moment, then neatly placed it back in the closet. He let out a small sigh and slipped his arms into his black and white Givenchy Paris backpack, a gift from walking for them in _Paris Fashion Week Spring/Summer_ _2021_ this year. 

Givenchy was the only brand he had walked for besides his father’s, and they treated him far kinder than anybody in his father’s team had. Part of him _wanted_ to walk for them in the next show, albeit he might not have a career by then.

It wasn’t as though he loved modeling, though it seemed like he despised modeling for his father’s brand more than anything. The lack of freedom he had, the way the Agreste team treated Adrien because his father didn’t care even if word got back to him. Though with Givenchy, a brand and team he was unfamiliar with, they treated him with a care and kindness he hadn’t seen in the business before. 

The idea of modeling after _lycée_ suddenly wasn’t so scary if they picked him up. His mind traversed to attending university for something in the sciences, to do something he truly cared about instead of faking it for the money.

Maybe he could do both, if need be. 

After a quick run through of his morning routine in the bathroom, which included far less hair gel than he used on a normal basis, Adrien swooped Plagg into his backpack. He dropped a small wheel of cheese in along with him, resituated the bag on his back, and strolled out the door. 

“Adrien, your father would like to see you,” Nathalie stated, popping in front of him from out of nowhere. She didn’t look up at him, eyes focused on her tablet. “You have fencing after school today and a photoshoot lined up later this week.” 

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Adrien responded, running a hand through his slightly messy hair. “Did father say what he needed to speak with me about?” 

Nathalie stared at him deadpan, as if to say _did you really just ask me that_ and Adrien let out a stiff laugh, waving at her idly as he nervously moved towards his father’s office, licking at his lips. 

What if his father had somehow found out about what him and Ladybug did? What if he knew about the police coming today and was going to rip him a new ass for ratting him out? What if his father forced him away from his friends and family, kept him locked up and made him continue modeling for his line from a run-down basement—

 _Toughen up, Agreste. You’re a man_ , Adrien thought to himself, wringing his hands nervously as he stepped into his father’s office, peering around for anything out of place. 

“Hello Adrien,” his father welcomed, standing behind his computer with his normal frown on his face. “I was told you behaved well for the staff while Nathalie and I were gone.” 

“Of course, Father. The only time the staff heard from me was when it was dinner time,” Adrien agreed with a nod of his head, standing with his posture straight and hands clasped behind him. 

Father stared him down for a moment, a perceptive look on his face. After a few moments, he nodded, seeming satisfied with what he saw. “Good. You dressed well today. Has Nathalie told you your schedule for the day?” At Adrien’s curt nod, he let a small grimace-smile onto his face. “Well, you don’t want to be late for school. Off you go.” 

That was it? That was the last conversation Adrien was expected to have with his father? Yes, his father was a horrible person, but it was his _father_ _for dieu’s sake_. Adrien’s allowed to be selfish, even if it’s for one moment. Even about this.

So, Selfish Adrien walked forward towards his father, ignoring the surprised look on his father’s face as he hugged him tighter than Adrien ever remembered. Selfish Adrien allowed himself to indulge in this, knowing it would be the last time for a while—perhaps forever, if he chose to visit him. Selfish Adrien whispered, “I love you, Father.” Selfish Adrien let go of his father, mumbling a shit apology about having missed him this week and nearly cried on the way out at his father repeating the sentiments. 

The words wouldn’t make up for anything his father had done. They wouldn’t make any of what was about to happen easier, yet hearing his father say those three words regardless of if he meant it would help him heal in the long run.

x

On a bright, cloudy day in the beginning of December, Hawkmoth’s terror ended for good. The sun shone across the Parisian city like a warm blanket, as though it were illuminating the good and erasing the bad. A gentle breeze sluiced through Paris, reminding Adrien of how the Ladybug’s cleaned up messes the miraculous’ made. 

At that moment, he truly wondered if the deity knew beforehand and decided to give Paris this gift. 

Adrien ran a hand over his face as M. Moreau spoke in English, obviously confusing half the class with how swift he spoke. A majority of the time, Adrien understood him perfectly, as he had taken up English with his language instructor at home. 

For some odd reason, Marinette was sandwiched between him and Chloé today rather than on Chloé’s left. It helped to have her close to him, especially since this would be the class that the police broke the news. 

They had warned Ladybug and Chat Noir in advance that as soon as they saw Adrien leave the premises, they would move in and proceed with the arrest. Then, after his father was at the police station, the news would drop on _TVi with Nadja Chamack_ and that would be that. 

Adrien was emotionally and physically drained at this point. He had dealt with the news of his mother’s death and father’s betrayals for a little over a week and wanted to be done with it. He was sick and tired of crying, of feeling a tug in the center of his chest when he thought about it. The sooner he moved on from all of this and could start anew, the better.

He was fully aware that trauma didn’t work like that, though a boy could dream.

Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien saw Marinette, who he had been kind of distant with since he freaked out on her, snatch his tablet. She quickly scribbled in the margins of his tablet and passed it back before M. Moreau noticed.

 _You okay?_ It said in loopy cursive, Adrien resisting the urge to glance at her as he responded underneath. _Yeah, just been a rough few weeks_. 

This time, he looked at her through his peripherals and saw a frown mask her lovely face. She scribbled back. _If you need to talk to anyone, I’m here._

 _I know_ , he wrote back, chewing on his lower lip. He continued underneath it. _Thank you. You’re doing much more than you should be for me._

 _I do it because I care about you, you idiot._ A smile lifted on his lips as he read her words, and just as he was about to write back, mass alerts were sent out over everyone’s phones. 

_Civilians of Paris, we are pleased to inform you that Hawkmoth’s reign of evil on our beloved city has come to an end. After years of terror, Gabriel Agreste has been unmasked as the former villain and been placed under arrest without bail until his imminent trial for domestic terrorism and more on our city. Agreste’s assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur, has been placed under arrest as well, due to undeniable proof of her being Mayura. We thank Ladybug and Chat Noir, along with the police force of Paris, for bringing our city back to safety!_ ** More with Nadja Chamack on TVi.  **

As soon as M. Moreau read out the detailing of the citywide mass alert, all eyes in the room landed on him. The range of expressions on their faces told it all. Most looked at him in pity, some in shock, and a few in disgust. Chloé looked ready to murder someone, Alya and Nino were both sporting shocked, yet sad expressions on their faces. The blue-eyed beauty to his left stared at him sadly, though her calm eyes were gentle, were comforting in a way he needed. 

Her hand reached up to grab his shoulder, to ground him, as Principal Damocles announced over the loudspeaker, “Classes are canceled for the rest of the day in celebration of Hawkmoth’s arrest! See you all on Monday!”

Chloé ripped her phone out of her pocket and smashed a few buttons on it. “I need the limo here as soon as possible, please.” She hung up the phone rather harshly, shot up out of her seat, and grabbed Adrien by the hand. “Let’s go, we’re leaving. The rest of you—and I mean _my friends_ so don’t even think about it Jean-Pierre—better follow us or you’re getting left behind.” 

Her and Adrien were out the door in less than five seconds with Marinette, Nino, and Alya tailing them. They could hear other students approaching, trying to follow and see what was about to happen, though Chloé was too fast. They’d never seen the girl exert so much energy before, even with an akuma present—she usually just berated it. 

By the time they made it outside, the limo had already arrived. Sabrina stood outside of it, fidgeting nervously as she saw them. She pulled the door open and allowed them to file in, climbing in after herself and shutting the door.

Somehow, they’d made it out before any reporters lurked on the property. Thankfully so, as Adrien wouldn’t know how to deal with any of them without punching them in the face. 

The limo ride was quiet, _too_ quiet nearly, as they pulled up to the _Le Grand Paris_. The six of them silently shuffled into the lobby, Chloé turning to Adrien with fierce eyes. “I have a question for you, Adri.” 

“Mm?” Adrien’s eyebrows raised at Chloé, questioning. 

“Are you in the mood to talk about what’s happening right now?” She stood in front of him with a hand perched on her hip. “‘Cause if you’re not, we’re going to go into the movie theatre and watch shitty movies all night while we eat even shittier food.” 

A fond look made its way onto Adrien’s face at her words, as best as he could right now, and he hummed. “I think watching shitty movies sounds exactly like what I need right now.” 

“Alright sluts, you heard him. Off to the theatre! Sabrina and I will help Jean get the snacks.” 

The group of them dispersed, finding their way to the private theatre the hotel used for certain events, though was closed off otherwise. The seats were luxurious faux-leather with electric reclining and heating. There were soft blankets strewn across the top of each seat, the seat oversized and plush enough to fit two people. 

To his left, Adrien noticed Alya and Nino crowd onto the plush recliner, Nino sitting closer to Adrien so the boy could reach out and ruffle Adrien’s blond locks. Adrien unknowingly leaned into his touch, eyes slipping shut momentarily. 

Nino’s hand dropped down to grab at Adrien’s for a split second. Adrien squeezed his hand in thanks for the silent support, for being his friend, for just _being_. “You’re cute,” Nino mouthed to him with a wink, letting go of his hand afterwards.

“Alya, your boyfriend is flirting with me,” Adrien whined a bit petulantly, his lower lip jutting into a pout. He barely noticed Marinette slinking onto the arm of his recliner, her arm brushing his. 

“Is he making you flustered, Agreste?” Alya’s words were teasing, her body leaning forward so she could see Adrien.

Adrien moved forward to try and flick at Alya, smiling as he spoke, “Yeah, your boy is just _so_ pretty, I can’t help myself.” 

“We can share him if you’d like,” Alya said, blinking her eyes prettily at Adrien. “As long as you’re down for being sandwiched—”

“You’re going to scare the poor boy in a second, Als.” Nino wrapped his arm around Alya and kissed her forehead. 

Letting out a scoff, Adrien crossed his arms over his chest and went to say something, though paused with his mouth open when Marinette rested her cold hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey there, stranger,” Marinette said, running a hand through the ends of her hair. “Seat taken?”

Adrien shook his head, mouth drying up as she slid into the space next to him, her warm body pressing against his. She pressed the buttons that extend the recliner outward and turned the heated seat on, throwing the blanket behind their head over the two of them. After a few quiet seconds, she looked at him slightly warily. “Is this okay? I know you like physical contact when you’re sad—”

“Yes, this is perfect, Mari,” Adrien told her with a real smile on his face, his stomach fluttering at her proximity.

A piece of her hair fell into her face as she looked up at him with her big eyes. Adrien had to clench his fists together to not use his hand and slide her hand behind her ear. 

“Alright, good. I just want you to be comfortable. I know you have a lot going on right now, so I don’t want to push any boundaries—”

“Marinette,” Adrien said, a serious expression on his face. He turned his body towards her the best he could with how close they were seated, his hand resting on her shoulder. “You could never make me uncomfortable.” 

“You have way too much faith in me,” she whispered with a small frown on her face, eyes averted from his.

Gently shaking his head, Adrien squeezed her shoulder as he whispered, “You’re our everyday Ladybug, of course I have faith in you. I’d trust you with my life, Marinette.” 

Marinette stared at him hard, her eyes shining ever so slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Chloé barging into the tiny theatre with Mamma Mia held tightly in her hand, Sabrina following like a cute puppy. 

“You hoes ready to scream your heart out to _ABBA_?” 

x

Falling asleep wasn’t something Adrien remembered or intended—the warmth of the blanket weighing him down into the comfortable recliner. With the help of the heat from the body to his right and the extra layer, he must’ve been lulled into a dreamless slumber.

His right arm and shoulder was slightly numb, Marinette’s head tucked into the crook of his neck. Her nose was pressed into his skin, her quiet snores nearly soothing him back to sleep. Her hand was resting against the center of his chest, slightly holding onto his shirt, while his arms were wrapped loosely around her body. 

It was the best sleep Adrien’s had in ages, since he could remember what decent sleep meant.

Glancing at his white and gold _Patek Phillippe_ watch that had been passed down several generations, Adrien was shocked that the time was already rounding to _21 heures_. He didn’t want Marinette’s parents worrying about where their only daughter was, even with the looming threat of Hawkmoth gone. 

“Psst, Mari. _Psst_. Wake up,” Adrien whispered quietly in her ear while gently shaking her as to not scare her. 

Slowly, though not visibly happy, Marinette twisted slightly in his arms to stare up at him, her eyes half-lidded and voice slightly raspy. “What time ‘sit?” 

“Almost nine. Shouldn’t you be getting home before your parents worry? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Mm, but you’re so warm, Adrien,” she said with a laugh, her head moving down to lay over his chest, his heart skipping a beat as she did. Adrien wondered if she heard it, if it made her stomach flutter like his currently was.

With a breathy laugh, Adrien ran a hand over her back for a second, then gently pried her off of him. “You’re going to get grounded and then blame me for it!” 

“So proper,” Marinette groaned, a hand reaching up to flick his chin, though she complied and slid off of the chair. She stretched her limbs out, Adrien swiftly looking away as her shirt rose to expose a small sliver of her tummy. “Say _gonna_ like the rest of us peasants, why don’t you?” 

Snorting, Adrien replied with a smirk, “Gonna like the rest of us peasants, why don’t you?” 

Marinette stared at him deadpanned, plump lips—no, Adrien wasn’t staring— parted slightly. “We are no longer friends.” 

“How shall I go on now that the outstanding Marinette Dupain-Cheng has banished me from being an acquaintance?” Adrien’s hand flopped dreadfully across his forehead, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh, the shame! The horror!” 

“Lower your voice, sunshine! Some of us are trying to sleep over here,” a groggy Alya grumbled from her position against Nino’s shoulder, glaring playfully at Adrien. “Wait, is it time to go already?” 

“Perhaps,” Marinette said, with a sad grin on her face. “Say your goodbyes before _maman_ start calling.” 

With Chloé and Sabrina sleeping peacefully in their own recliner, Alya set to the task of bringing Nino back from a deep sleep as Marinette and Adrien said their goodbyes. 

“I don’t know how to properly thank you,” Adrien told her honestly, rubbing his hand along his neck. He scooted forward to sit on the edge of the closed recliner, weighted blanket forgotten. “You’ve done so much for me recently, Mari.” _So much more than you know_ , he thought, licking at his lips. 

Even with Adrien sitting down, Marinette was still only a few inches taller. Her white and black striped thin turtleneck had somehow become untucked from her light denim jeans, which were cuffed at the bottom. Her all black low-top sneakers looked cozy— _she_ looked cozy, and Adrien wanted to snatch her up into a hug.

She smiled at Adrien beautifully, her blue eyes shining in the dim lights. Shaking her head, she stepped forward and lowered her arms around his neck, lulling him into a sense of security she seemed to carry with her at all times. 

_Dieu_ , she was warm, so incredibly so as her knee came to rest against the plush leather between Adrien’s knees. His arms finally wound around her, hands scrunching the back of her shirt as he held her tightly. 

"Where are you staying?" Her words were quiet against his ear, her hands drifting into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

"I'm going to stay at Nino's tonight. I can't go back to the mansion until the police get all of the evidence they need for the trial," Adrien whispered into her shoulder, shivering as he felt her breath against his ear. 

With one last squeeze, she pulled away so her hands could slide up and grip his cheeks. She looked at him with a serious expression as she spoke, "If you need _anything_ at all, you call me, okay? I don’t care if it’s three in the morning or two in the afternoon, you call me." 

Transfixed by her eyes, Adrien nodded wordlessly, his hands falling to his lap. He felt cold without her warmth by his side. He couldn't have her all the time, couldn't rely on her solely to get through it all. She was the brightness that lit up his dreariest of days. Her warmth licked his skin like a flame, kept him alive in the coldest parts of winter. If it weren’t for her, Alya, Nino, and Chloé, Adrien might’ve given up.

Even now, when the hurt settled in his chest turned into numbness, she coaxed him out of it without trying. She reminded him that it was okay to feel the way he did, to hurt like he had been.

Adrien knew he was bordering the line of no return. He loved Marinette, a true, inarguable fact. His heart was hers, neatly wrapped in a present with her name on it. As much as he knew that now wasn’t the time nor place, not when he was busy healing his heart, he wanted to tell her.

 _Someday_ , he thought, as he watched her leave with Alya. _Someday you’ll see what you really mean to me._


	4. marinette realizes her wrongs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!!!!!! i'm sorry it took so long for me to upload, BUT.... *drum roll* THE FIC IS FINISHED. I completed it finally!!!!! so, i'm splitting the p.o.v into two chapters (will upload one after another) to make it a bit easier to read since it comes out to a whopping near 13k chapter otherwise!!!
> 
> i hope this helps clear up any confusion that was left last chapter! i had always planned on writing marinette's p.o.v after adrien's to kind of give a little bit more context on her thoughts and how she realized her wrongs.
> 
> i hastily beta'd this so if there are any mistakes... i'm sorry
> 
> thank you to everyone who let me scream about this!

MARINETTE

“I’m worried about him,” were the first words out of Marinette’s mouth to Alya and Nino as the three of them sat at an empty table in their favorite coffee shop. Alya sipped on a hot chocolate whilst Marinette and Nino both had hot coffees, Nino’s three shades lighter than Marinette’s. 

_“No, I’m not going to go into cardiac arrest,” Nino had reassured, taking a large gulp of his sugary coffee._

_“I’m not reviving you if you do,” Alya had retorted back, pinching the bridge of her nose._

It warmed their frozen fingers up, the mid-December air frigid in comparison to its usual mild standards. Snow covered the inevitably-slick roads, enough to stick around for another day and ruin their mornings. 

Truthfully, it ticked Marinette off more than she’d admit, how careless Mother Nature was when it came to planning the weather out— _especially_ on days where defeating akumas had taken longer than her and Chat Noir would’ve liked. Their suits protected their body from extreme weather, though the exposed parts of their face endured the brunt of it. 

Though it wasn’t as though she had to worry about akumas anymore, right? 

She wondered if there was something wrong with her in that it almost felt— _dare she think it_ —bittersweet. Bitter in the fact that they had to put Adrien’s father away and hurt him in the process. Sweet in the fact that Paris was safe at last.

Adrien didn’t deserve any of it. He had too pure of a soul, loved so effortlessly and hoped for the best in everyone. 

And she had been so _reckless_ , so stupid in even bringing up the fact that his father could be Hawkmoth before revealing herself to him. Her suspicions had been roused after a chilling conversation with Tikki, one that made the hairs stand up on her forearms. 

The plan originally was to reveal herself to him, give him a day or two to process and let it sink in, then propose a plan on looking into possible suspects. Her and Tikki organized a list, prepared a whole speech on how to even acknowledge the hard-pressed truth and what did she do? She word vomited and messed up the plan in a matter of .7 seconds. 

There was Ladybug, who was able to handle situations with the utmost care and vulnerability it needed. With confidence and class, Ladybug thrived in stressful situations. Then, there was Marinette, who was _also_ Ladybug, who _also_ thrived in stressful situations, though the confidence and class part was lacking.

Throw in an accidental reveal of her partner who turned out to be Adrien _holyfuckingshit_ Agreste and all of that went out the door. 

Adrien was her partner she had kissed all those nights ago in her bed as a civilian, after a panic attack over loneliness and cold, empty mansions. They’d been running circles around one another for ages, both uselessly pining.

Pining for what, exactly? After Marinette’s mistake, she wasn’t even sure she _could_ tell him she was Ladybug. Not yet, at least. Not until he was no longer grieving over the loss of _both_ of his parents. 

She could hold off on telling him; it was the least she could do for him. She loved him with every fiber of her being, to the core of the Earth, to the depths of the ocean. Her heart soared at the thought of her kitty and Adrien being one and the same, their parallels intertwining wonderfully in her mind. 

Marinette would be there for Adrien, even if it killed her. If he decided that in the end, they were better off as friends for the time being, or for good, she’d accept it and love him all the same. She’d support whatever decisions he made. 

That’s the point of love, right? True love to be precise. Love that loved endlessly, that supported endlessly.

 _Yeah_ , she thought, a small smile on her face, _that’s love_. 

“Worried?” Alya mused, sinking into the warmth of her infinity scarf. She took a sip of her hot chocolate, eyebrows raising. “Explain.”

“I just,” Marinette started quietly, adjusting in her seat a little uncomfortably as their eyes shifted to her. “He’s seemed _too_ happy, no? Like, I understand dealing with things in your own way—”

“—which is its own perfectly healthy way of dealing with grief—”

Marinette narrowed her eyes into thin slits at Nino as she cut him off, “Shut up, you _know_ that’s not what I mean!” 

The honey-colored skin boy opposite her at their table lifted his hands in self-defense, eyes slightly wide as he peeked a glance at Alya. “I understand what you _mean_ , Nette. Adrien’s my best bud! I just don’t know if it’s our place to push him right now. We can offer to be there for him, but if he’s not ready to talk, all we can do is wait.” 

“You’re right,” Marinette murmured, carding her gloved fingers through her hair idly. “I just want him to be okay.”

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tell them about Adrien’s mother. One, it wasn’t her place to out his business, especially when it wasn’t public knowledge. Two, it was _his_ decision to make. Perhaps the worry she felt would be understood had she told them, but she wanted it to be on _Adrien’s_ terms if he did, no one else’s. 

“I know, Nette.” Nino sipped at his coffee, reaching a hand across the table to squeeze at her fidgeting one. “So do I. So does Alya. And Chloé. We all want what’s best for him, so all we can do is be ready when he does need us. Who are we to judge his healing process? Sure, we should be worried about him and take precautions! But that doesn’t mean we get to monopolize his healing process and try to shape it into what _we_ think is the right way to grieve, you know?” 

“God, when did you get so smart, Lahiffe? We gain a few years and suddenly you’re a life coach?” Marinette used her sleeve to wipe the lone tear that traveled down the expanse of her cheek, letting out a slightly shaky laugh. “I just care about him so much—” 

Alya dropped her hand on top of Nino’s, a small knowing smile gracing her features. “We know, you dork. You never stopped.”

“I can’t help it. I _tried_ to stop loving him, to think about him platonically, but I can’t! I don’t know if I ever will.” Marinette wrapped both of her hands around her coffee, soaking in the heat from the mug. She peered down at the liquid begrudgingly, her lips cast downward. 

“He’s your first love. Those take up a chunk of your heart for a while, sometimes for good.” 

“Who knows, Als,” Marinette mumbled with a slightly dreamy look on her face, resting her chin on her palm. “That boy deserves all the love, whether it be romantic or platonic.” 

Chatter around the cafe pittered off as Marinette’s thoughts drifted off for a second, her fingers toying with a loose string on her jacket. She still had many regrets in how she treated the whole situation with Adrien—would for a while, truthfully. Though she couldn’t go back and fix her mistakes, she _could_ be there for him when he needed it. 

And she would be, no matter the cost of her heart. 

* * *

The park was loaded with festivities. 

Paris held all different types of events throughout the year and this year’s theme was _under the moonlight_. Lanterns were strewn about in trees, small snowflakes strong from one lamppost to the next, fake snow piled up in corners to appease the season. There were booths set up all around the park, some were designated to warm drinks and sugary foods whereas others focused on crafts and games, using tokens bought ahead of time to participate. 

Marinette decided to bring out her festive side, pinning back one side of her hair with two small clips, one green and the other red. The red and green ugly Christmas sweater under her puffy jacket had two kittens on it and said _We Wish Mew A Merry Christmas_ , whilst her back was decorated in peelable Christmas-themed stickers. 

Alya and Nino had looked at her a little crazily as she’d walked out of the bakery, cheeks already rosy from the cold and gloved hands shoved deep in her pockets. The two of them chose the lazy route when it came to being festive, Nino in a Santa hat and Alya in an elf hat.

_“Party poopers,” Marinette had told them, sticking her tongue out playfully._

_“You look like an overzealous Hallmark movie character, Nette,” Nino had replied with a smirk, dodging Marinette’s aimed kick at him._

_Rolling her eyes, Marinette’s lips quirked in a small smile as she mumbled, “You’re just jealous that I look cute in beret’s and they don’t stay in your hair, Lahiffe.”_

_“Oh, woe is me.”_

One of the booths had thick paper with colored pencils and stencils to create snowflakes that were later on cut out. Immediately, Alya grabbed Nino’s hand and pulled him in the direction of the booth, Marinette telling them she’d be right over as they set off. 

Somehow, it took her all of three minutes to find her phone in her tiny bag, due to a small child accidentally bumping into her and falling over, crying even though there weren’t any cuts or bruises. She had to console the poor child and give them a sticker, placing it on their glove with a practiced grin, and waving away the ever-so-thankful parent. 

Adrien picked up on the third ring, voice a little groggy, “Hey, Mari. What’s up?” 

Rearranging the scarf around her neck, Marinette held the phone to her ear, watching as her breath came out in short, smoky puffs. “Hey there, stranger. I’m wondering what you’re doing on this fine evening?” 

It’d been a week since her conversation with Alya and Nino. She hadn’t pushed him nor reached out to him, barely spoke to him when he was at school all because Nino said that they should let him come to them. Maybe listening to Nino was the wrong idea, as Adrien seemed the exact same as he had before. 

Whether that was due to his inability to show proper emotions or not was a brief thought, too. 

He was quiet for a moment, and she could _barely_ hear him stretching his limbs out in the background, a smile rolling onto her face. “I’ve been laying in bed watching some new Anime? I don’t even know what’s been happening. I think I’ve zoned out a bit,” he told her honestly, breathily chuckling in her ear. 

“Yeah? Sounds exciting,” she replied, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Alya, Nino and I are at the park doing some event thing, do you want to join us? It’s been a while since I’ve— _we’ve_ seen you outside of school. I— _we_ miss you.” 

The _I miss you_ hung in the air, creating a small amount of tension that they hadn’t had since they were young. As awkward as she felt, she needed him to know that he was missed, that they noticed when he wasn’t around to crack silly puns. To half-smile at them and tilt his head endearingly whenever they said or did something stupid. To join in with them and embarrass himself right alongside them.

Chat Noir and Ladybug hadn’t been suited up since they’d arrested Hawkmoth, as the pretrial wasn’t set until next month. Marinette suited up as Ladybug every so often to see if Adrien was too, though if he was it was at different intervals than her. 

And as much as she _wanted_ to tell him—and boy _did she_ , she didn’t think he was in a good enough place to receive that information, yet. 

Only time and patience would heal a broken soul, and she’d give him that and so much more. His answer tonight would give her an indication of where his head was at, too. Three days to Christmas and Marinette wasn’t sure who he’d be spending it with. Wondered if asking him to spend Christmas with her family was too much, or if it was the right thing to do. 

Marinette gripped the phone tighter in her hands as she awaited his answer, swallowing harshly. 

“I—” He breathed, before going quiet once more. She could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, thinking about what he wanted. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Her voice was quiet, though the smile that slipped onto her face was one of the most genuine and lighthearted smiles she’d had in a while. “Okay, great. We’ll see you soon, then?” 

“Yeah,” Adrien whispered, and a soft click indicated he had hung up. 

Maybe he wasn’t all the way better, maybe he wasn’t even _close_ , but he was trying and that’s what mattered. 

In the meantime, her, Nino, and Alya went around to a few of the booths to check them out, Nino deciding on swapping his boring Santa hat out for one that lights up different colors with the push of a button. He looked quite ridiculous and Marinette lived for it, whereas Alya used one of her tokens on a small red-nose to place on her face, giving Marinette a begrudging smile as if to say _there, I’m festive_. 

She was alone in a queue for hot chocolate when she received a gentle tap on the shoulder and she all but spun around, the biggest grin on her face when she saw Adrien standing there. He had a small, yet hesitant smile on his face, hands shoved into his pockets and a beautiful black peacoat that stood out in comparison to his tanned-skin. His nose and cheeks were slightly red from the cold, hair tousled, and he had the blue scarf she’d made him all those years ago wrapped around his neck. 

He was dressed in black jeans and warm suede shoes, the expensive ones, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. She only came up to his chin, her eyes locking with his as a more relaxed smile found its way onto his face. His head tilted and his eyebrows furrowed slightly, though the smile stayed firmly in place. 

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, the breath nearly knocked out of her. The boy standing in front of her was stunning and he barely knew it. She wanted to scream it to him, yell it off rooftops, whisper it into his ear before she kissed his cheek, write it on billboards. 

There was a sadness in his eyes that was nearly unnoticeable, yet she knew him too well to miss it. Her arms were around his waist within seconds, tugging the blond into her body much to his amusement.

The festival continued on around them, the two of them unaware of it happening as Adrien’s own arms lowered to wrap around Marinette’s shoulders. His chin just _barely_ brushed the top of her head and Marinette could feel his hands shaking, though she presumed it to be from the cold. 

It was nice. _He_ was nice.

“Thank you for inviting me out,” Adrien murmured as he pulled back slightly to look at her, a genuine smile on his face. Marinette knew because of the small dimples encasing his cheeks. 

Her eyes dropped to his lips for the briefest of seconds and she’s not sure if he noticed, won’t ask because she won’t ruin what she has with him on her watch, _dammit_. 

But _dieu_ she really wanted to kiss him. 

And he was right there, staring down at her with a smile just for her, with the same doe-eyed exterior as when he looked at Ladybug. He had kissed her as Chat Noir all those nights ago, before everything went chaotic and she had planned to reveal to him in a slow, teasing manner.

That went out the window as soon as she and Tikki brought Hawkmoth into play and had their revelation. She didn’t want to put more on Adrien’s plate, yet couldn’t stop herself from touching him at times. It was hard to wait when she knew what she knew, but he was worth it. 

Adrien Agreste was so fucking worth it and Marinette Dupain-Cheng would make sure he knew it. 

“Adrien,” she tried instead quietly, blocking out her thoughts about kissing him, her lips suddenly dry as his smile kicked in full force. “Adrien, I— _you’re_ so—” 

“There you guys are!” Alya called from somewhere behind Adrien and Marinette’s shoulders sagged, though her grip on him didn’t falter. “You said you were only going to be a few minutes, Mari! We were about to send a search party out for you.” 

The moment was ruined, yet the fire ignited in her stomach blazed carelessly, spreading to every part of her body as Adrien continued to gaze down at her as if he had no care in the world. His hand slid from around her back to swipe a piece of her hair behind her ear, her body involuntarily shivering at his cold hand.

“Where are your gloves?” Her eyes narrowed up at him, arms dropping to cross over her chest. “You’re going to get sick, Adrien.” 

“Forgot them at home,” he said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he stared at her with a lopsided grin. “‘Sides, you’ll keep me warm, won’t you?” 

Adrien: 1. Marinette: 0. 

It was such a Chat thing to say that Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes and open her mouth to retort; Nino interrupted her by throwing an arm over Adrien’s shoulder and squeezing him tightly. The other boy _did_ have the decency to mouth her a _sorry_ as his hand affectionately ruffled Adrien’s hair. 

And when Adrien wasn’t looking, Marinette shook her head at Nino, understanding. Nino cared for Adrien _just_ as much as she did, though in a different way. Had it been another situation, she knew Nino wouldn’t hesitate to give her time with Adrien. She couldn’t be mad at Nino for wanting to make sure Adrien was okay with his own eyes, even if it meant butting into a private moment. 

Marinette would’ve reacted the same had the situation been switched and it was either of them in Adrien’s shoes.

The four of them were huddled together, one of Adrien’s arms wrapped around Marinette and his other around Nino. Nino and Alya were holding hands, sharing gentle smiles, and Alya had her hand hidden in Marinette’s scarf. 

Taking a tiny leap of faith, Marinette snuck her hand out of her pocket and into Adrien’s, momentarily startled when her hand came in contact with something. She felt a gentle nip on a sliver of skin exposed and then the something was gone, freeing up pocket space for herself.

Plagg. _Definitely_ the small _dieu_ of destruction playing games with her. 

After hot chocolates were ordered and given—almond milk and no whipped cream for Adrien—they walked around the park for a while. There was laughter and smiles everywhere, them soaking in the beauty of the small festival that graced their city. The grin on Adrien’s face alone was enough to brighten Marinette’s day. 

“Britney Spears could spit on me any day,” Alya said cheerfully—albeit arbitrarily, though it was _Alya_ —much to the disdain of the others. 

“Babe, what the fuck?” 

Alya let out a loud burst of laughter, teeth showing as she grinned. “You’re telling me you _wouldn’t_ —”

“I absolutely am,” Nino replied with raised eyebrows, though the mirth in his eyes showed he was amused by her words. 

“You two are so _weird_ ,” Adrien murmured, letting the warmth of the hot chocolate soothe the cold of his hands. “Why am I friends with you again?” 

Marinette nudged him with the hand in his pocket, grinning up at him. “You mean why are _we_ friends with them, Adrien.” 

“You love me too much to ever leave me, Marinette. If I didn’t have Nino and you weren’t a hopeless romantic, we’d be in love.” Alya tapped her on the nose with a gloved finger, making kissy faces at her and blinking her eyes cutely. “Don’t even deny it.” 

“I won’t deny something that’s true.” 

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend? Because if so, eat a bag of nails.” 

Letting out a snort, Marinette flicked at Nino’s cheek with her other hand, sticking her tongue out at him. “She’d leave me for you in a heartbeat, Lahiffe.” 

“Sure, Nette, and then I’d just snatch Adrien up and buy away my sadness.” Nino jokingly acted as if he was going to lick her face, then backed away afterward. “Was going to be gross, then I remembered the kid that got his tongue stuck on a pole and couldn’t go through with it.” 

“Pussy,” Adrien whispered under his breath, the girls laughing harder than they should’ve whilst Nino fake-cried at Adrien _betraying him_. Then, what surprised the three of them, was Adrien linking his arm through Marinette’s that was lodged in his pocket. “You guys don’t mind if I steal her for myself for a bit, do you?” 

Two equal smirks littered the faces of her best friends and Marinette wanted to roll her eyes, though her heartbeat was too fast for her to do so. “Go for it, dude. Just shoot us a text when you want to meet up again, yeah?” 

With a nod from Adrien, he tugged Marinette away in the opposite direction, the silence comfortable yet nerve-wracking for her. What could he possibly want to talk about that had to be done away from their friends? 

He was making her nervous, her teeth chewing on her lower lip anxiously as they made it to the drawing booth, the one where snowflakes were created or they could free draw on paper. Without saying a word, Adrien sat her down on one of the stools, detangling himself from her so he could sit across from her. “Do you want to play a game?” 

“A game?” Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and she quickly schooled her features, not wanting to dissuade him. “Sure! What type of game do you want to play? Tic-tac-toe? Hangman? Guess the drawing? Or we could—”

The amused look he shot her was enough to stop her rambling, her cheeks flushing—not because of the cold. 

“How about this,” he started, with a smile yet serious expression on his face. “We both draw something that’s on our mind, perhaps a secret that’s weighing us down. Kind of like drawing therapy, I guess? It doesn’t have to be something you want to tell me particularly, though what I have in mind is such for you.” 

Oh _mon dieu_ , what did he want to tell her? Was he sick? Was it that he was sad? Could it be that he was Chat Noir? Maybe he was leaving the country because being in Paris was too hard for him? Or it could be something worse entirely?

She _really_ didn’t want to play this game, yet her heart answered for her brain. “Okay, let’s do it. Do we have a time limit?” 

“Does ten minutes sound good? It doesn’t have to be a perfect drawing, but enough that it relaxes us.” 

Once she nodded to him, the two of them set off drawing, their hot chocolates acting as a barrier to block the other from seeing it too soon. 

What was she going to draw for him? Instantly, her mind thought of telling her that was Ladybug, perhaps this being the least hurtful way she could go about it currently. He seemed to be okay, yet she really hadn’t asked him how he was _truly_ doing, the idea of upsetting him enough to stop her from pushing him. 

Marinette knew that no matter what, whenever she did speak her truth, it would upset him. To what regard, she wasn’t sure, yet it had to be done. As much as she wanted to wait for the perfect moment, that moment would never arrive. Life goes on and things get hard, sometimes unbearably so, and that meant talking about painful things in times of heartache. Speaking truths that seemed like they never had a place to be heard. 

Her hand settled on the black colored pencil, effortlessly sketching out small Ladybug spots prior to using the red one for her suit. A midnight blue shade for her hair in a high ponytail, her usual akuma fighting style. Then a peach-colored one for her skin. She added a few shadows and highlights, drawing a chat bubble that read _chaton?_

The _chaton_ thrown in should give herself away immediately if her drawing itself didn’t do a good enough job. Next to her finished body, she drew a long couch with Chat Noir posing on it, similar to the picture she drew for Adrien a few weeks ago. The pose was the same, though he was suited up this time, hair slightly tousled and grin more relaxed. 

In a chat bubble next to his head, Marinette wrote _draw me like one of your french girls_ , which was a reference to an inside joke of theirs from a night on patrol years ago. The thought lifted her lips into a smile. 

All she can remember from that night was Chat Noir acting particularly suave, settling down on an outdoor couch on one of the Parisian roofs. For the first time ever, he had told her that he had _finally_ seen Titanic and would go down with that ship, _thank you very much Ladybug_. Which in itself was enough to make her fondness for her partner grow tenfold, though at the platonic. 

So, she encouraged it, and that led to her partner sprawled out on a couch in a slightly sexual position, wiggling his eyebrows at her. A sight she didn’t want to see at the time but now had her cheeks burning up. 

“I’m done,” she whispered into the quietness around them, eyes raising to see Adrien’s focused expression. 

Her mind blanked and the only word that she could think of was _cutecutecutecute_. 

A slight furrow to his eyebrows, two lines centering the bridge of his nose. He was biting the corner of his lip, head cocked to the side as his chin rested on his palm. Smooth, silky skin that made Marinette’s palms slick with sweat, colored pencil falling out of her grip. Bright green eyes that peered up to meet hers, winking as he noticed her watching him. Lips that half-smirked, so Chat her head started to spin.

He was endearing, so incredibly endearing. 

“Same here,” he told her, bouncing a little in his seat. “I’m a bit nervous, but I trust you, so hopefully you receive it well.” 

“I will,” she reaffirmed gently, knocking a hand into his free one. “I know I will, whatever it is.” 

Taking a deep breath, Adrien nodded once at her and offered his paper to her. She did the same and the two of them swapped with them face down, eyes still on one another. “On three?” 

Marinette gulped, nodding as she started to countdown. “One.” 

“Two.” 

“Three,” they said in unison, flipping the papers over and excitedly peering down at them. 

Her lips quirked into an immediate smile at Adrien’s drawing, because, well, it was a drawing of Chat Noir, that she could tell. Considering Adrien wasn’t an artist by any means, the drawing was better than she expected. A simple drawing of Chat standing up, waving at the viewer looking at the image, saying _hi purrincess_. 

It was cute, truly.

She ran her fingers along his colorful drawing, laughing a little giddily that they both told each other the same thing, even though she knew already. He trusted her civilian form enough to tell her, to let it out into the air and get it off his chest. For _Marinette_ to be able to console him. 

The smile on her face faded slightly when she looked up at him, fingers pausing over the drawing. “Adrien?” She questioned, quietly, as to not spook him. 

The blond boy sat in front of her gripped the paper tightly in his hands, enough to crinkle the edges slightly. His mouth was curled into a frown, eyes wide and cheeks red, though she suspected it _wasn’t_ from the cold. 

“Marinette, I—” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, mussing it up even further. His eyes raised to meet hers, mouth opening and closing a bit endearingly. “ _You—_ ”

“Yes, it’s me, _minou_ ,” Marinette whispered, one of her hands reaching up to try and grab his. She frowned slightly when he retracted it from her, a little hurt by his actions. “Are we okay?” 

The wind howled around them, floating carelessly through the air and blowing their hair about. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a small child yelling for their mother whilst tugging happily on her hand. There were many people about, including those sat within a ten-foot radius. 

He only had eyes for her. 

“I— _fuck_ , Mari,” the words tumbled unsuitably out of his mouth, the curse he let slip shocking the both of them. “That means the day we figured it out in the mansion, it was _you_ there? You saw me emotionally distressed—”

“I would never judge you for that, Adrien. Ever,” she said fiercely, determination present in her voice as her hands gripped the edges of the table for support. 

Adrien visibly swallowed, licking at his lips while furrowing his eyebrows. “So, what? You just wanted to mess with my feelings, then? Have you known the entire time—”

Her voice was frantic. “What? Adrien, _no_ —”

His voice was bitter, slightly shaky as he spoke, “When I came to you during my panic attack all those weeks ago, covered in snot and unable to breathe, did you know then? You never loved me as _coccinelle_ , and I’m not saying you owed me anything because you _didn’t_. I just don’t understand—”

“Adrien, _please_ , I promise you that everything I’ve said to you was real,” she paused when she noticed a lone tear making its way down his face. _Fuck_ , this was not what she intended to happen. “I _promise_ you.” 

“I think,” he started, eyes dropping to the drawing in front of him, studying it. “I think I need some time, Marinette. I don’t—everything is so incredibly messed up right now. I don’t know if I can fully trust you. I want to, I just—I don’t know, I _can’t_.” 

Marinette’s chest tightened considerably, her jaw dropping at his words. Trust her? He couldn’t _trust_ her? Her brain racked through any possible moment they’d had together to try and understand his thought process when it hit her hard. 

Gabriel being outed as Hawkmoth messed him up and ruined his trust in people. Sure, she knew he’d be upset because it’s his _father_ for _dieu’s_ sake, albeit not to this extreme. Not to the point where he’d question his trust in his relationships. That he’d question _her_ authenticity. 

Marinette wanted to be upset, to yell and scream and plead with him that _I’m still me, Adrien_ , though she couldn’t be. She understood completely, conceded that Adrien had been through far more than anyone should ever have to go through in a _lifetime_ in the span of a few weeks. 

“Okay,” she said, finally, after a minute of staring at him and his tense posture. Her words seemed to relax his shoulders, though his face was still contorted in a slight pleading expression. 

It was the most heartbreaking look she’d received from him since he’d found out about his parents.

With a sudden purpose in mind, she folded up his drawing and hid it in her bag, then stood up swiftly. She walked over to stand in front of him, smiling gently in his direction. 

“I’m sorry,” he near whimpered, shoulders curling in on himself as he clenched his fists together. “I’m sorry, Marinette, I—” 

“Hush, Adrien,” she cut off his apologetic rambling with a small yet fond shake of her head. “I understand. Take your time, okay? When you’re ready, I’ll still be here. Always.” She’s tempted to reach out and squeeze his shoulder, though stopping herself at the last minute. 

He was vulnerable right now, unsure and petrified of anyone getting too close. She wanted her words to do the speaking, for him to know she truly meant it. 

“I’m going to head out, alright? You find Alya and Nino. You need this way more than I do. Here.” She stuck her hand in her pocket, pulling out the tokens she’d purchased and placed on the table in front of him. “Please, have some fun tonight.”

Sending him one last smile, she waved at his flabbergasted expression. She grabbed her hot chocolate and walked away, tucking her chin into her scarf. 

Though tonight didn’t necessarily go in her favor, it was only a matter of time before things worked themselves out. And when they did, she was more than ready to be the person Adrien needed. 

Marinette was ready to love Adrien Agreste the way he deserved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: multibug


	5. adrien has a revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been a wild ride. we've finally made it to the end of this monster (for me at least!) fic. thank you to van and everyone on the adrien protection squad that listened to my incessant rambling when it came to this fic. 
> 
> i hope the ending leaves you satisfied, and i thank you all for the love and support you've given this fic. i thank you for giving me a chance to tell this story in my own way! you're all great. <3 
> 
> as always, hastily beta'd! probably will go over and double check later but i went through the best i could on my own read! :) 
> 
> see you all on the flip side

_“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” — Dumbledore_

ADRIEN

December was in its fourth week and Adrien was _not_ having a good time; Christmas Day to be specific. 

Combine _having an awful time_ with _she loves me, she loves me not_ and that summed up Adrien’s existence lately. He hadn’t had this hard of a time in years, usually such a positive and bustling individual—though Plagg thought differently. The shock of his father’s betrayal to the city of Paris and to _him_ worried his thoughts less as time went on. It wasn’t so much Gabriel’s disloyalty that plagued him, albeit the fact that his immediate family had depleted from two (one uncertain) to zero on the same day. 

Holly jolly songs on the radio were hurtful to hear, in stores, at photo shoots. because, until he figured out his money situation and whether he held power in his father’s company, it was better to be safe than sorry. His trust fund was unavailable until he turned eighteen and could last him throughout life comfortably if he wanted, but Adrien yearned to _d_ _o_ something with his life. 

He just wasn’t sure what that something was yet.

Frustration loomed over his shoulders, digging into muscles he hadn’t known existed. He rolled onto his back to alleviate the pain, Nino squawking on his side of the bed from Adrien nearly crushing him. A snort left Adrien’s lips as he scooted over, flopping back onto his own side. 

Once in a while when Adrien slept over Nino’s, they shared a bed and spoke about things they wouldn’t otherwise. He’d learned a wide variety of things about Nino over the span of four years, including some _what the fuck, Nino_ type secrets. 

Yeah, the boy to his right might’ve been a terrible liar in most cases, face immediately giving away that he was hiding something. He’d never spoken a word about their pillow talks sessions. He could trust him to carry his secret around, especially now that Hawkmoth was in jail and Ladybug— _Marinette_ , that still messed with him—knew his identity. 

He didn’t want to think about the inevitability of that situation right now, not with Nino prodding him in the side with a raised eyebrow. “What’s up?” 

“Hmm?” Blinking three times in a row to clear his foggy brain, Adrien tilted his head to look over at Nino. “What?” 

“You look like you’re about to pass out, why don’t you sleep?” Nino suggested, head leaning on his outstretched arm on his pillow. 

Adrien groaned, shaking his head. “Can’t. My brain is running on overdrive right now.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Those words opened the floodgates for Adrien, who before today, hadn’t spoken much of his December’s hardships to anyone. It hadn’t seemed right to push his first-world problems onto his friends without asking. 

Opening up to anyone in general was hard for him, clearly. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he responded truthfully, eyes cast on Nino’s ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stars from when he was young. “It’ll change our friendship, Nino.” 

“Dude, I know I’m hot, but Alya is the only one for me right now.”

Snorting, Adrien rolled over onto his side and punched a cackling Nino in the arm. “Shut up, you absolute terror!” 

“Alright, alright! I’ll stop.” Nino positioned himself more comfortably on the bed, pillow tucked under his head. “So, what’s up? Do I have to get my skinny ass beaten up to stand up for you?” 

“You’re too much,” Adrien murmured a bit amazedly, shaking his head amidst running his hand through his hair. “So, you can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.” 

Nino rolled his eyes, sending him an unimpressed look. “I know that, man. I haven’t forgotten the rules of our slumber parties, no matter how rare and stupid they are.” 

“Hey, I take offense to that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve offended the pretty blond in my bed. Get on with it and stop stalling, Adrien.” 

_Telling him is okay_ , Adrien reminded himself, licking his lips. _It’s okay. Hawkmoth isn’t a threat and Nino will keep my secret_. _He’s one of my best friends._

“Okay. Alright. Here it goes.” Adrien took a deep breath and averted his eyes from Nino, them cast on a poster on Nino’s wall. His nose picked up a scent, a candle Nino had lit because he knew it calmed Adrien down. “Nino, I’m Chat Noir. I have been for years, since _collège_. All those times I disappeared during akuma attacks, it was to help Ladybug out. I’m sorry for not telling you until now. I only learned of Ladybug’s identity a few days ago and I was working up the courage to tell you. I figured, since you’re one of my best friends, you’d keep my secret?” 

“Wow. Holy shit, Adrien… That means that your f—” 

Adrien nodded quickly, swiftly cutting off Nino’s words to the point where the other boy sat up abruptly. Nino tugged Adrien up from where he was laying to bring him into one of the tightest hugs Adrien’s ever received, warmth flooding through his body at an alarming rate. 

His chest hurt with how much he cared for Nino, how much he appreciated him for being there for him all these years. Through stupidity and Adrien’s need to protect the city, which sometimes left little time to be the type of friends they’d wanted, Nino was still here. 

Through thick and thin he had promised Adrien in _collège_. No matter what went on, what graced the presence of their lives, they would push through and be the type of friends the two of them needed. 

Nino would be there for him. Nino was his family, more so than anyone that lived in the cold, empty mansion miles away. 

Adrien wasn’t _alone_. 

“You’re still you, man. You being Chat Noir is a cool asset and all, because my best friend is essentially a furry that’s saved Paris time and time again, but you’re still _Adrien_. Being Chat doesn’t make you any less of him.” 

And if Adrien got a little choked up at that, neither of them mentioned it as Nino hugged him tighter. “Thank you.” 

“If we’re telling secrets, then I might as well share mine with you,” Nino told him with a laugh, squeezing Adrien once more before letting go, the two of them sat cross-legged across from one another on the bed. 

“Hm? Something as riveting as my time prattling around Paris in a catsuit?” 

“You could say that,” Nino responded with a smirk, scratching an itch on the outside of his hand. “I can’t believe how oblivious we’ve been, dude." 

Adrien tilted his head to the side, dragging a smaller blanket up and over his shoulders to warm himself. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m Carapace, Adrien.” 

_Adrien.exe has stopped working. Please reboot the terminal._

“So you’re telling me that we’ve been working together to fight crime unknowingly when Ladybug called on you for four years?” Adrien’s mind was _blown_. 

Nino laughed, a bit shakily, and nodded his head. “Yup. I can’t believe it either. I always assumed I’d recognize Chat Noir if I saw him. You’ve been my best bro for the same amount of time and I never questioned whether it could be you.” 

“That’s— _wow_ ,” Adrien paused to let the revelation sink in, chewing on his lower lip for a moment. Then his eyes widened, and he peered at Nino suspiciously, on attack mode. “Either Alya’s Rena Rouge, or I’m going to yell at you for flirting with Rena.” 

“Of course it’s Alya, you jerk! I would never cheat on her.” Nino flicked Adrien in the cheek with a shake of his head. 

“Okay, okay, _sorry_! I had to make sure. Alya’s like a sister to me, and as much as you’re like a brother to me as well, I’d have to take you down if you hurt her.” Pouting, Adrien rubbed at the offended spot on his face, looking like a proper dog. 

Laughing to himself, Nino shrugged halfheartedly. “Trust me, I know. I’d have you, Alya, _and_ Marinette on my case if I ever hurt her. You’re good, man.” 

The sound of Marinette’s name had Adrien’s heart racing, thumping wildly in the center of his chest. Two of the most important people in his life turned out to be the same person, though his brain kept screaming _betrayal_. He knew it wasn’t true, was aware that everything Marinette did was out of the kindness of her heart and what she genuinely thought to be right. 

It still hurt, though. He wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t. 

Yes, he loved her. He loved Ladybug and he was starting to fall in love with Marinette, in the greatest depths of his being. She was everything he wanted, everything he _needed._

For the two of them to be the same person, he was lucky. How hadn’t he seen it before? They looked so much alike once the veil of discretion fell off her after she told him. Their expressions were similar, body language nearly identical, and that _smirk_ she gave him. 

The decision was his, ultimately. To be happy, or to fade back and curse his inability to trust. Was it worth losing out on someone he’s loved for four years? Should he let the things his father’s done risk his happiness? 

The choice was simple, in the end. 

* * *

  


Adrien still wondered to this day how Chloé managed to get her father’s approval for their formal to be held at _Le Grand Palais des Glaces_ on New Year’s Eve. The amount of tourism the _Le Grand Palais_ received on the daily was enough that Adrien wondered how much money they were losing to hold it for their school. 

Perhaps Mayor Bourgeois had offered a settlement to the government to cover the money-loss. 

No matter the reasoning, Adrien was prepared to have a fun night, to dance and ice-skate and be _happy_. This was one of the first outings he’s had since becoming Chat Noir where he felt free and unworried. 

Besides the guilt and shame creeping up his neck at driving Marinette away all those days ago. Nine to be exact. 

He felt refreshed, energized and glowing. His father’s arrest had happened nearly a month ago and though he was still healing, the smile that sat on his face was a genuine one. Shoulders relaxed, eyes bright, hair tousled to perfection, Adrien was ready to take on the night. 

_Louis Vuitton_ had supplied him with a rose-gold long-sleeved silk dress shirt, which he’d tucked into accompanying black slacks. The shirt had embroidered flower designs on it, and the color worked perfectly against his skin. It was one of the nicest silk shirts he’d ever worn and Adrien was grateful that his father’s wrongdoings hadn’t affected businesses wanting to work with him. 

Nino helped him with his hair ironically enough, as Adrien knew how to style it for casual days with water and a bit of hope, though for fancy evenings he usually had a team to do him up. 

_Rich boy problems_ , Nino had told him, tugging affectionately on his hair. 

(And if Adrien helped Nino into his navy suit and matching tie, no one needed to know.) 

There was an accompanying suit jacket that _Louis Vuitton_ had sent him with and he’d worn it for pictures on the faux red carpet, though he’d checked it in at the coat desk afterwards as the heat was _blasting_ inside. 

Paparazzi lined the building to see the event in action, as one of Paris’ prestigious high schools filtered into the building. Adrien knew that his appearance was a probable cause of their lingering, from the way their cameras were hitched up and aimed in his direction the moment he arrived. 

He even smiled for them, in hopes that whatever they wrote about him in the morning would reflect _him_ and nothing else. 

Walking through the building to their assigned table, Adrien’s eyes crept along the amount of work put into the building for the event. _Le Grand Palais_ looked stunning. Instead of the usual rectangular ice rink that spanned the center of the large room, they’d condensed it to a much smaller version in the corner of the room. A wide space was open between the rink and the tables for dancing, which were situated checkered-style to allow for room to maneuver through easier. 

Fairy lights lined the expanse of the room, small lanterns hanging evenly that produced a gentle, romantic glow. The dance floor had lights lining it, as did each table in the center with small candles. Each table had eight plates circling around it, cutlery, glasses, and napkins meticulously placed. Damask champagne-colored tablecloths laid over the tables while each chair was a rustic brown with matching cushions. Name cards sat on top of the plates, each name scrawled in perfect cursive. 

Their table consisted of Alya, Nino, Marinette, Chloé, Sabrina, Rose, Juleka, and him. Nino was on his left while Marinette was to his right, though they were able to swap around the name cards if needed. 

Prior to the event, the only rule that had been implemented was that ice-skating with dresses lower than the ankle were forbidden unless the material was held in hand at all times. Decidedly, a majority of the girls bypassed it and went for dresses that went to their ankle. 

Marinette wasn’t an exception. 

Adrien and Nino arrived prior to the girls as the two of them still had to do their _finishing touches_ or at least that’s what Alya told Nino when he called her earlier. Nearly twenty minutes later, the two girls showed up looking like a wet dream. 

_Holy shit_. 

On the opposite side of the room, Alya and Marinette stood with matching grins on their face. The taller girl tugged on Marinette’s hand and forced her in his and Nino’s direction. 

Alya was sporting a copper-colored spaghetti strap dress that came to a low v-shape in the front, which matched Nino’s pocket square. It had a slit that ran from her lower thigh to her calf and her heels were gold—almost iridescent in color. Her hair had been loosely curled over her shoulders and pinned elegantly in the front. Her makeup consisted of a nude lip and bold smokey-eye, dangly earrings, a necklace, and a few other accessories completing the look. 

As soon as she saw Nino, she squeezed Marinette’s arm and parted ways with her to go to him, the two of them embracing in a tight hug. Her heels caused her to rival him in height, though he still had an inch or two on her. 

Adrien’s eyes dragged themselves back over to Marinette, who was shifting from foot to foot and staring at him sheepishly. “Hey,” she mumbled, her hand holding her forearm as she stared at her shoes. 

Because, _wow_. She looked beautiful from far away, but up close? 

She was going to _kill_ Adrien. 

To start off, her dress matched his in color, he assumed to be Nino’s doing, and was as elegant as they come. A rose-gold one shoulder long-sleeve piece that hugged her curves in all the right areas, then flared out a little at her mid-thigh. The sleeve was sheer and ended at her wrist, small flowers embroidered into the thin material. Her hair was styled as a low textured and braided updo bun, her forehead free of her usual bangs. A few stray hairs framed the sides of her face, in which she was wearing light makeup with cranberry-colored lipstick. 

Her nude heels gave her about three inches in height, so she reached his nose as opposed to his chin. Her earrings were silver, and Adrien astonishingly realized that she’d never taken them off before, no matter the situation or reasoning. 

_Yup, definitely his Bug_. 

“Mari,” he breathed, stepping forward so he was right in front of her. “You look _beautiful_ , I don’t even— _wow_.” 

“ _B_ _onsoir joli garçon_ , _merci beaucoup,_ ” Marinette teased him albeit with slight uncertainty, peering up at him through her lashes. “You look really handsome.” 

Adrien shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled down at her, shrugging his shoulders casually as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Thank you. That means a lot,” he told her truthfully, nearly rolling his eyes at seeing Nino and Alya watching them out of the corner of his eye. 

So much for privacy, though he knew his friends were rooting for them as much as he was. 

“Food’s supposed to be coming out soon, should we go sit?” It’s her who cut the tension between the two of them, her eyes hopeful and lips slightly quirked into a smile. 

As if he could say no to her. 

“Let’s sit, my lady,” Adrien said, holding his arm out to escort her to their table. 

Her face lit up as she slid her arm through his, her free hand resting on his bicep and squeezing it gently. Their walk to their table was short, thankfully so, as Adrien weaved them through the table after table. 

Adrien contemplated pulling her chair out for her and decided to just roll with it, helping her scoot in and then taking his own seat. He ignored the way his cheeks flushed a light pink color, focusing instead on unfolding the napkin and throwing it over his lap. 

“Such a dork,” Marinette murmured quietly, as though it wasn’t meant for his ears and for herself only. “Thank you,” she responded instead, louder this time, grinning at him with slight crinkles by her eyes. 

“Adrien! Holy shit, I haven’t seen you in ages!” The voice came from his right and Adrien would’ve paled had it not been Chloé herself pushing through a throng of people to get to their table. 

Chloé looked beautiful, as well. She was wearing a sparkly gold fitted dress with a sweetheart neckline, hoop earrings and a necklace that laid over her chest. Her hair was down in loose curls over her shoulders and she had on winged liner with some tinted lip gloss. Her _high_ heels matched her dress and would’ve skyrocketed her to near Adrien’s height had he been standing. 

When she was close enough, she flung her arms around his neck and brought him into a tight hug as best she could whilst he was seated, makeup covered face tucked away from his expensive shirt. He hugged her back with a smile, relishing in the difference of her hugs now from how they were in _collège_. 

_Collège_ Chloé was a nuisance to be around. _Lycée_ Chloé was one of his best friends and an overall great human being. 

Adrien moved back to hold her at arm’s length, his smile widening into a grin, and he said, “You look great, Chlo.” 

“Thanks, you look super hot, babes. You clean up nice.” With that, she patted his shoulder and sauntered off, probably in the midst of searching for Sabrina. 

Chuckling, Adrien turned back to sit normally in his seat, noticing Marinette watch him out of the corner of his eye. “Hm?” 

“Oh, nothing,” she said with a glint of _something_ in her eye. “Just something Chloé said to me when we were taking pictures outside earlier.” 

“Do you want to share it with the class, then?” Tilting his head to the side, he rested his elbow on the table, chin atop his closed fist. 

Marinette shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, toying with one of the forks next to her plate. “She just said that if you don’t swoop me off my feet soon, she was going to do it herself.” 

Adrien’s mouth fell open, eyes blinking rapidly and he licked at his suddenly dry lips. “I—” 

“There’s my two favorite people!” Nino yelled as he flung his arms over both of their shoulders, kissing Marinette’s cheek. “Nette, I gotta say, you look beautiful.” 

“Thanks, Lahiffe. You don’t look half bad yourself.” 

Alya bumped her hip gently into Adrien’s arm, ducking down to give him a hug. “Half the girls here have been ogling you, sunshine.” 

“Is that a compliment?” His lips quirked into a smile, an arm wrapping around her in a side-hug. “If so, thanks, Alya. I love how your dress compliments your skin tone. You look stunning.” 

“Sorry Nino, I’m leaving you for him.” 

“Didn’t we discuss us all getting together a few weeks back? Don’t leave me, Als, just have him join _us_.” 

Choking back a laugh, Adrien took a sip of his water as Alya and Nino slipped into their own seats, the waitstaff beginning to bring out their food: garlic chicken with cream sauce, mashed potatoes and an assortment of vegetables. Chloé’s plate consisted of vegetables and lobster while Rose’s chicken was substituted for a plant-based option. 

“You know, I’m more of a one gal kind of guy,” Adrien said after he swallowed his first bite, a force of habit for him to dab his lips with his napkin afterwards. 

A smirk broke onto Alya’s face as she finished chewing her chicken, saying, “Is that so? Well, we know someone else who is a one guy type of gal—” After a small nudge from Nino, Alya glared at her partner before pouting, continuing eating her food slowly. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Marinette for a while after that. 

The night carried on without much of a fuss, Adrien’s belly content enough to where he felt like eating was a thing of the past. With how little he’s cared for his diet over as of late, he’s sure he gained a little bit of weight. 

It hadn’t shown much in his body, though the measurements he’d sent over to _Louis Vuitton_ seemed the teeniest bit too tight. He’d asked Nino about it a couple of nights back and the other boy told him not to worry about it, that he was still pretty and he loved him. 

Though silly to some, it was exactly what Adrien needed to hear at that moment. 

Chloé and Sabrina had dragged Marinette away minutes prior, when Alya strode up to him and tugged him out of his seat. “C’mon, sunshine. We’re going to dance.” 

The whole _I can’t dance, Alya_ spiel wouldn’t work on her, so he allowed himself to be courted onto the dance floor, a smile gracing his lips. “Alright, alright. You’re lucky I like you.” 

“Would’ve denied a lady a dance had you not?” Alya raised her hands to wrap them around his neck, eyebrows quirking up teasingly. 

Laying his hands on her waist, Adrien shrugged his shoulders and grinned down at her, the two of them swaying to the tempo of the song playing. “Perhaps. Who knows, I’m a bit of a pushover.” 

“A bit? Oh honey, we need to toughen you up.” She patted his shoulder gently, eyes too mischievous for Adrien’s liking. 

A passing couple nearly knocked into them and Adrien pursed his lips together, eyes narrowing in their direction. They’d clearly had too much to drink, giggling and bustling through the crowd like a group of men on a mission. 

“See, there was your chance to prove to me that you’re _not_ in need of toughening up!” 

“I can’t help it,” Adrien mumbled, resisting the urge to mess up his hand with his fingers. “I don’t like being mean.” 

“Sticking up for yourself isn’t mean, Adrien,” Alya pointed out. Her voice was quieter as she spoke next, “I would think with you being a black cat, you’d appreciate yourself more.” 

_What_ ? _No way, he hadn’t said anything to her, hadn’t made it obvious, unless—_

“Did Marinette tell you?” He hissed, taking a slight step back, hands still on her waist. “Because that’s not her secret to tell—” 

“ _Relax_ sunshine, Marinette didn’t tell me. I just assumed after she told me about her being a certain spotted bug and Nino bringing up how he told you about being a turtle.” 

Snorting quietly, the anger slowly rolled off Adrien’s shoulders and he continued to dance with Alya, letting out a sigh. “So you probably know that Marinette and I care for each other—” 

“—A lot, might I add—” 

“—and that I have a lot of issues. Granted, I’m _a lot_ better than I was earlier in the month and I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel, but I don’t want to put her through that,” Adrien finished after her interruption, frown appearing on his face. 

His trust issues were still evident just from him accusing Marinette of telling Alya when the blue-eyed girl hadn’t uttered a word to her best friend. As much as he loved and cared about her, his brain yelled at him to not take the next step. To keep her at arm’s length to protect her from his self-deprecation. 

Marinette was the sun. Her smile could light up the darkest of days, settle a pit in the bottom of a stomach, cure the saddest of hearts. Adrien was the moon, important yet overlooked, following in the sun’s every wake. They were two celestial beings that never crossed paths unless an accidental stellar event took place. 

Had Adrien not run away to receive proper education and satisfy his need for human interaction, they might have never crossed paths. Plagg may’ve been given to someone else, a more deserving choice in his opinion—though Plagg would hold camembert under his nose while he was sleeping had he known Adrien was thinking so poorly about himself. 

Was it a sign that they were meant to be, no matter the situation? No matter the consequences? No matter the other parties involved? 

_Yes_ , Adrien thought, unable to help the optimistic part of his brain. _Y_ _es it does_. 

A sad expression appeared on Alya’s face, one that she didn’t show very often. She was normally pretty good at hiding her emotions. “We know you’re hurting, Adrien. Marinette knows this too and she cares about you _despite_ all of that.” 

Her words hit Adrien straight in the heart, piercing it like a knife to his chest. The idea of Marinette caring about him despite all of his issues, of her wanting him regardless of them, seemed too good to be true. “I feel like I don’t deserve her,” Adrien admitted, quieter than anything he’s said before. 

“If anyone deserves her, honey, it’s _you_ of all people. I love that girl, but you’re the kindest and most caring person I think I’ve met in my life. _Y_ _ou deserve to be happy_. Trust me, I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

Small tears filled the corner of his eyes at her words and he ended up wrapping his arms around her to hug hre, letting out a slightly shaky breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I’ve needed to hear that.” 

“Whatever it is that’ll make you happy is what we want for you,” Alya whispered, squeezing him once and unraveling herself from their hug. “Now, go find her and tell her what’s on your mind. She’ll want to hear it regardless of what is best for you.” 

With a sigh and a roll of his shoulders to encourage himself, Adrien smiled genuinely at her. “You know, I don’t think we could’ve had a better _rouge_ if we tried.” 

Flipping her hair over her head, Alya sniffed. “You know it. Now shoo! Before I make you dance with me any longer.” 

Listening to Alya was the easy part. Finding Marinette was the hard part. 

He searched high and low, around corners and in dark places. He checked the ice-skating rink, the bar where they served non-alcoholic drinks, the dance floor, _heck_ even the hallway for the bathrooms. She’d somehow disappeared in the span of twenty minutes and Adrien’s heart was racing uncomfortably at this point. 

_I’ll find her, it’s okay. There’s still five minutes left until midnight. She has to be around here somewhere_ , he thought, frantically weaving himself between happy couples dancing on the dance floor. 

Suddenly, the song changed to a slower one and Adrien checked his watch. Less than five minutes at this point. He didn’t see her in his view, so he spun around to check the opposite side of the room and bumped _hard_ into someone. 

_Settle down with me, cover me up, cover me in._   
_Lie down with me and hold me in your arms._

Adrien couldn’t help but let out a slightly hysterical laugh, because _of course_ he ran straight into Marinette while trying to find her. If the cliché, romantic movies he’s watched alone in his room weren't replying in his head, he might’ve felt less exasperated. 

Marinette’s eyes are slightly frazzled, searching behind him rapidly as she spluttered out barely coherent apologies, “I’m so _so_ sorry, I’m just trying to find someone and— _Adrien_?!” 

“Hey, Princess,” Adrien choked out, hands wrapped gently around her shoulders from when he had steadied her from their run-in. “I’ve been looking for you for the last ten minutes. You’re quite the evader, aren’t you?” 

“I—” Her cheeks flushed at his words, traveling down to her exposed neck and shoulders. She ducked her head abashedly, though he could see a small smile trying to break the neutral expression on her face. “Chloé was helping me get the DJ to play a song.” 

“Oh? Are you looking to dance then, my lady?” Adrien slid his hand down to the center of her back and nearly gasped at feeling her warm skin, Marinette leaning into his touch. The back of her dress was open and her skin lit him up, warming him like a fire pit on cool, summer nights. 

“I was hoping you’d dance with me when I requested this song for you,” Marinette admitted shyly, slowly lifting her head to lock eyes with him gently. “For _us_.” 

Lips curving up into a grin, his dimples appearing on either sides of his mouth, Adrien took one of her hands in his. His opposite hand trailed from her flushed skin to her waist, perfectly fitting in the dip there. “Anything for you.” 

_And your heart’s against my chest, lips pressed to my neck._   
_I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet._

Marinette took the liberty to link their hands together, allowing her other hand to rest lightly on his bicep. “Really listen to the lyrics, _minou_ , okay?” 

It was as though he could feel her heart beating against his chest, in sync with the slight racing of his own. Her bright blue eyes never left his as they moved around the dance floor, as if they were the only two left in the room. Somewhere in the background, Adrien swore he could hear shouting and giggling, some _get it, Agreste_ ’s, and a thump on a head. 

All Adrien knew is that Alya was one hundred percent recording them right now if he knew her well enough. 

_And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now._   
_Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved._   
_This feels like falling in love, falling in love, we're falling in love._

The song fit them perfectly, exuding both of their feelings with words that Adrien so badly wanted to say yet couldn’t find. They lingered in his brain, in his chest, deep in his heart as though they were a secret he held for so long. 

He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and pressed a lingering kiss to her hand, nose rubbing into the skin for a minute before allowing them to drop. “I know I never really had a reason to be mad or upset with you, but I think I’m passed it.” 

“Thank god,” she nearly whimpered whilst stepping even _closer_ to Adrien, any tension that had been left in her body seemingly dissipating at his words. “I just want you to be happy, kitty. You deserve it so much.” 

“So do you,” he said, voice cracking on the last word, eyes shining with how much he meant it. “You do, too. Not just me. Please don’t forget that.” 

“ _Y_ _ou_ make me happy, happier than I’ve ever been. When I found out that my two favorite people in the whole world were the same person, I nearly spontaneously combusted on the spot.” This drew a laugh out of Adrien, a deep, hearty one that had Marinette giggling with him. “And then I realized what it meant for us, what it meant for _you_ , and as much as I wanted to pursue a relationship at that moment, the moment we found out for sure the news about everything, I knew you needed a friend first and foremost.” 

_Settle down with me, and I'll be your safety._   
_You'll be my lady._

With how fast those four words in the song brought him to tears should’ve been embarrassing, though he couldn’t bring himself to care as he leaned down to brush his nose against Marinette’s. “And that’s why I love you. You were there for me when I needed it the most, multiple times without me even realizing it. I don’t know if I can repay you for what you’ve done for me.” 

“You being you, and you being _happy_ is more than enough for me.” She was so close to him that he could smell her vanilla scent and it was intoxicating, his eyes unable to break from hers for even a second. 

“And if my happiness is being with you?” Soft, gentle words spoken from Adrien that had Marinette’s mouth widening into the prettiest, biggest smile Adrien’s ever seen in his life. 

_I was made to keep your body warm._   
_But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms._

“Then I guess we’re made for one another,” Marinette told him sincerely, her hand clutching his tightly as he stepped back from her and commanded her movements into a twirl, then bringing her back against his body. The two of them laughed wholeheartedly when Marinette’s knees banged into Adrien’s, the countdown for midnight sounding in sixty seconds resonating in their eyes. 

_Yeah I've been feeling everything, from hate to love._   
_From love to lust, from lust to truth._   
_I guess that's how I know you._   
_So I hold you close to help you give it up._

“I still can’t believe we danced around one another for four years,” Adrien grumbled a bit sourly, though his face was still held a smile. “We could’ve been doing this for that long had we both not been blind.” 

Giggling quietly, Marinette shrugged her shoulders and let her head dip back as if she was relishing in the moment. “We were both _stupidly_ blind,” she started, eyes aglint in such a sense that Adrien’s stomach turned with butterflies. “I still don’t understand how you were so oblivious that you never realized I was madly in love with Adrien from the start.” 

Oh. _Oh._ The way her truth hit him like a freight train, causing him to pause his movements until Marinette tugged him back into it, a pretty flush on her face. She held her head confidently, hand traveling up his arm to rest on the side of his neck. _Dieu_ , she was beautiful. “I didn’t break you, did I?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Adrien hissed, teasingly, leaning down to brush his lips over her smooth forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and stopping right before he kissed her lips, close enough to breath in each other like she was the oxygen he needed. 

“It was obvious to everyone, Adrien! I tried to confess to you so many times and it always went so _badly_. I thought we weren’t meant for one another,” Marinette paused as her hand threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck, grinning as Adrien’s eyes slipped closed as she scratched. “I realize now that it wasn’t our time yet. We weren’t ready for one another, but now we can take on the world.” 

_So kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved._   
_This feels like falling in love, falling in love, we're falling in love._

“Is your goal to make me cry, Mari?” Pressing his lips together, Adrien held his composure and reopened his eyes, green staring into blue. “Because if so, you’re going to succeed.” 

“My goal is to make you realize that I love you, Adrien Agreste, and nothing could ever change that.” 

_Kiss me like you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved, you wanna be loved._   
_This feels like falling in love, falling in love, we're falling in love._

As the clock struck midnight, while the song crooned the words _kiss me_ , Adrien did just that. 

Lips met lips in a passionate flame, Adrien’s hand cupping her cheek, thumb brushing over the spot right under her eye. She tasted like strawberries, his nose filled with her wonderful scent as she pushed closer to him, tilting her head the slightest bit to deepen the kiss. 

Fireworks sounded off in the distance, akin to the way Marinette’s lips on his erupted sparks in the pit of his stomach. She felt like coming home, like happiness contained in a bottle. She warmed him, replaced all the numbness he’d experienced as of late—since that night in her bedroom as Chat Noir—with light and made him feel sated. 

Adrien was supposed to be bad luck. Plagg told him that from the start, warned him that good things wouldn’t come to him often. Marinette was the single best thing that had come into his life. 

When they both needed to breathe, Adrien finally pulled back from her addictive lips and rested his forehead against hers, matching million-wat smiles littering their faces. He pressed a single, chaste kiss to her mouth and let his thumb swipe across her bottom lip. “I love you.” 

“Can’t believe Adrien Agreste just told me he loves me,” Marinette said with slightly wide eyes, the corner of her lips lifting to show she was teasing. The two of them barked out similar laughs and she whispered between them so quietly, so sweetly, “I love you.” 

Adrien was happy. 

* * *

ONE YEAR LATER 

  
  


_Les rêves des amoureux sont comme le bon vin (The dreams of the lovers are just like fine wine)._   
_Ils donnent de la joie ou bien du chagrin (They both can bring happiness and even sorrow)._   
_Affaibli par la faim je suis malheureux (Weakened by hunger, I am unhappy)._   
_Volant en chemin tout ce que je peux (Stealing at the same time everything I can get)._   
_Car rien n'est gratuit dans la vie (Because nothing in life is free)._

The view of Paris from uncharted heights never failed to put a smile on Adrien’s face, especially as a transformed Chat Noir sat on a beam in the Eiffel Tower. Wind blowing through his hair and sending a chill through his temperature-controlled suit. 

His favorite thing to do when sat up here alone was to make stories about passersby on the streets below. Though, this time, he wasn’t alone. 

A transformed Marinette was sitting in front of him, back leaning against his chest with her head tucked in the crook of his neck. She wasn’t asleep, yet her eyes were closed in a way that suggested she was close to it. 

_L'éspoir est un plât bien trop vite consommé (Hope is a fastly consumed meal)._   
_À sauter les repas je suis habitué (I am now used to skip meals)._   
_Un voleur, solitaire, est triste à nourrir (It is sad to feed a lonely thief)._   
_A un jeu si amer, je n'peux réussir (Between us, I am bitter, I want to succeed)._   
_Car rien n'est gratuit dans la vie (Because nothing in life is free)._

From this angle, if Adrien tilted his head toward her ever-so-slightly, he could see how long her eyelashes were as they fanned over her mask. 

Marinette radiated beauty inside and out, transformed or not. Adrien knew how lucky he was to have her. 

_La vie jamais on ne me dira (Never will I be told again)._   
_Que la course aux étoiles, ça n'est pas pour mo (That reaching the stars isn't made for me)._   
_Laissez-moi vous émerveiller et prendre mon en vol (Let me astonish you all and begin to soar)._   
_Nous allons en fin nous régaler (We will all have a treat soon)._

Adrein had wrapped his arms around her long ago, as soon as she’d dropped down in front of him and settled against his body. Metallic bars pressed into his back a little uncomfortably and the shoulder she was leaning on was starting to fall asleep. 

He couldn’t think of happier days, if he was honest. 

_La fête va enfin commencer (The party shall finally begin)._

Snuggling further into his arms, one of Marinette’s eyes peered open to glance at him, then she sleepily opened both of them with a small yawn. “Hi,” she whispered, lips against his neck where the suit didn’t cover. 

“Hey, you,” Adrien murmured back, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her hair and pressing a kiss to that exact spot. “Tired?” 

“Mm, it’s hard to sleep without you by my side,” Marinette admitted as Adrien shivered at her lips dragging over his skin. “You keep my bed too warm and I can’t replicate it.” 

_Et sortez les bouteilles, finis les ennuis (And take out the bottles, the troubles are over)._   
_Je dresse la table de ma nouvelle vie (I am setting the table of my new life)._   
_Je suis heureux a l'idée de ce nouveau destin (I am happy knowing this new destiny)._   
_Une vie à me cacher, et puis libre enfin (A lifetime lived hidden, now I'm finally free)._

“Is that so, Princess?” Adrien tilted his head to the side, contemplating her words carefully. 

She nodded, her hand finding his easily and tangling their fingers together. “Yeah, you’ve spoiled me, I suppose.” 

Adrien laughed, nosing his way down until theirs were pressed together and she was looking into his eyes. “Move in with me, then.” 

_Le festin est sur mon chemin (The feast is on the way)._

“What? Adrien, are you serious?” Marinette twisted out of his grasp so she could turn around his arms and face him fully, Adrien’s arms steadying her the whole time. “Really? You mean it?” 

“Of course, Mari. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t, you know that.” 

_Une vie à me cacher, et puis libre enfin (A lifetime lived hidden, now I'm finally free)_

Tears spilled down Marinette’s cheeks and Adrien used his lips to chase them away, hands focused on holding her steady on the beam. “God, I love you, _minou_.” 

“I love you, my lady.” 

(If fourteen-year-old Adrien was told he’d find happiness and freedom by age eighteen, he would’ve never believed them. Eighteen-year-old Adrien knew it to be true.) 

Love, as always, conquered all. 

_Le festin est sur mon chemin (The feast is on the way)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: multibug

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know how you guys liked it :) 
> 
> tumblr: multibug


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